A Saint's Resurrection
by Shadow182
Summary: Sequel to BoaS. Spanning the entire epic of Saints Row 2, follows the Boss as she rises to reclaim her city, facing newer, deadlier enemies. Final Chapter posted!
1. Second Life

**Hey guys, and welcome to the other half of my SR fic! For anyone who doesn't know this is a sequal to Birth of a Saint, and might reference some stuff that happened in it. The SR2 part of the fic just sort of kept growing and growing, so I decided to put it into a story of its own.**

**A caution, it is written a little weirdly - It flicks between first and third person (and in this chapter, a little bit of second person). Sorry if it's confusing. Anyway. Enjoy!**

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><p>Officer Bradshaw ran a hand through his hair and took a desperate drag of his cigarette.<p>

_Christ. What have they done?_

He watched as corpse after corpse was pulled out of the water and laid out on the closed off promenade, many of them charred beyond recognition, clothes melted onto their skin. Around him, lights flashed belonging to police cars, fire trucks, ambulances; not that it mattered. There was no reviving them. He glanced down to the end of the macabre line of bodies, feeling his insides go cold when he saw two officers carefully laying another down onto the pavement, covering her with a tarp.

"Wait!" he said quickly, striding fast to the end of the line. The two officers took a step back. One of them went to speak, eyes full of concern.

"Troy, d-"

Troy didn't listen. He leant down and ripped back the tarp, breathing in sharply to hold back a strangled noise. It was her. The 'girl', the nameless Saint and Julius' right hand. His mind swam with confusion and he knelt forward, breathing slowly.

"...Hey, Bradshaw," one of the officers tried. Troy just shook his head sharply.

"She was just a _kid_," He tried to stress. His colleagues balked at this.

"Just a kid? Troy, she was the most dangerous person in the city; you should know what she was capable of," The officer snapped, "Just a kid? Yeah, and Hell is just a sauna."

Troy wanted to smack his colleague, but he knew he had to hold back. Everyone on the force was starting to question his loyalty and here was no place to be getting torn up over his friend.

A small sigh escaped him. His Friend. Other double agents had warned him about becoming sympathetic to the enemy when you're masquerading in their ranks. But this girl had fought alongside him. It was fair enough to call her dangerous but he'd seen how she was around her gang. She was protective, fearlessly loyal and she'd saved his ass on more than one occasion. He'd seen the gentle way she looked at her gang and the whores and the everyday people living in the Row. He was sure that in her own twisted way, she loved them. She tended them and guarded them. He sighed. She'd have made a damn good cop had her life guided her that way.

Troy looked down at the young woman. Half her clothes had been blown off her body, parts of fabric melted to the back of her legs and a little over the shoulders. But her front was clear; she hadn't been facing the explosion when it took place.

_'Did you run, girl?'_ he wondered, resting a hand over the pale forehead. With the jet black hair framing her pretty features, skin ghostly pale, and lips smeared with bright red blood that must have spilled from her mouth, she reminded him of Snow White. Only instead of a glass coffin, it was a filthy boardwalk in the middle of a crime scene.

"Not dead, just sleepin'," he murmured, "if only." He pushed a lock of hair from her closed eyes. Troy blinked, looking closer at her eyelids. They moved… rather, the eyes beneath them flickered like someone deep in REM sleep. Quickly he pressed two fingers up under her jaw, searching for a pulse, pressing another hand over her heart. A weak, sluggish beat responded.

"Shit- Hey! HEY!" he shouted, waving desperately to a paramedic, "She's still alive!"

The paramedics came jogging over and they weren't the only ones. Next thing Troy knew he was surrounded by police and fire fighters, all craning their necks to get a look at her. The paramedics pushed him out of their way to apply their trade to the weak body. Eventually he just stepped back watching them strap the young woman down to a gurney and slide her into the back of a waiting ambulance. They'd take her to the ER at the nearest hospital, he knew. If she was ever stabilized, she'd be moved to an infirmary at some high-security prison, hopefully the old Stillwater penitentiary on Cook Island- Something in him wanted her to stay close. A heavy breath beat itself out of his chest and he took out another cigarette, a shaking hand lighting it as he drew in the smoke gratefully.

"Christ girl," he muttered, smoke spilling from between his lips. "You're like a damn cockroach."

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><p><em>You gotta wake up boss. We need you… Julius is gone. The gang's fallin apart without you. The boys are tryin to hold it together but there aint no one to lead them. I did my best but… I guess that shit just aint my forte. Though getting my ass locked up in here cos of what I tried to do to that asshole Troy aint helping none… he was a goddamn cop, y'know that? Huh. Not that you can hear me...<em>

_Dex left. Sold out to Ultor for fucks sake. Eesh has been keeping me up to speed; There's other gangs movin in, pushing us back. We're losing, Boss. Eesh says the north island's already gone, some assholes called the Ronin._

_Argh, fuck this hurts. Startin to think the guards got a pool goin on how long I'll last in here. Don't you worry bout me though, this aint nothing but a flesh wound. Some asshole shanked me… he'll get his, trust me. Then we'll find out who did this to you and they'll get the same. Don't worry, you' safe in here. Plenty of Saints watchin your back, aint no one getting in here to finish you._

_Christ._

_Wish I knew your name right now._

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><p><em>Hey. You um, you… probably don't remember me. But I rolled with you once. Heard you were in here so I faked bein sick to see if I could get in to see you. Wow… don't know why I'm talking to you, you might be brain dead for all I know...<em>

_You saved my life once, you know that? The Carnales were tryin to take back the docks, I was there fightin them off. One of them got me pinned and you just showed up outta nowhere and took them out like they were nothin. You reached down, grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet… You were awesome. Bein a girl on the Row aint easy… you probably know what it's like. But I had you to look up to._

_…Please_… please_ wake up? They'd talk about how crazy you were, how strong you were. It's not right, seein you here like this. The Saints are… they're done. It's been an insane two years. Everyone's dropped their flags if they weren't busted like me._

_… Please wake up._

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><p><em>So, Snow White, how are we feeling today? Huh. One of the benefits of caring for coma patients, no small talk. Maybe I should be working in a morgue, what do you think?<em>

_Christ, you should be in a morgue. Three years, lying here, breathing through a tube. We could use your organs, you know. Don't worry, I'm not looking to kill you, it's against my oath. That and I'm no judge._

_Oh, speaking of which, your friend's trial is going… interestingly. Amazing, over three hundred counts for murder, but he was caught in attempted murder. Shame. Gat's a funny guy. But he's going to the chair, no judge or jury is going to let him slide. Court's in recess, but we'll be hearing the verdict in a few days…_

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><p>BlipBlipBlipBlip<p>

I shivered. That single sound has stained my mind. My mind… like a jigsaw puzzle you've just spilled from the box, pieces here and there, nothing fitting together.  
>I remember running over a deck, a loud noise, flying through the air.<br>I keep thinking of Snow White.  
>Hi ho, hi ho, off murderin we go…<br>I remember darkness… and water, a river filled with floating corpses and fire. I can hear voices but none of them make any sense.  
>I see white, for the first time. A face over my bed. She's shocked, she's yelling.<br>I remember someone saying something. I'm hearing them like I'm under water.  
>"Don't tell them, not yet."<br>Not yet.

BlipBlipBlipBlip. It's a heart monitor, I realise. I try to move, there are restraints over my arms that the nurse is loosening. My arms are bandaged, there are tubes coming out of me.  
>"Can you hear me?" "What's your name?"<br>Snow White.  
>I hated Snow White. I was more a Beauty and the Beast girl.<p>

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><p>I was waking up again, there were voices around me that weren't there before. My mind was…<p>

Clear. Jesus, how long was I out? There were hands on my arm, unwrapping bandages. I heard someone talking.

"Coming through!"

"What happened?"

"Shanking."

"Put him over there…"

Murmurs. I shifted, testing my strength. I felt weak compared to the last time I was conscious, but I could move, that was what mattered. I flickered by eyes open to the bright light, looking down at my arm, seeing a pair of hands sliding a catheter out of my vein and pressing a small dressing over it. Weakly I turned my head to look up through the blinding white light and glare at the faces above me, a doctor and two guards. One put their hand out when he saw me open my eyes.

"Careful doctor. The patient's dangerous."

"You got anything you wanna say to the judge, you better start thinking of it now," the other one said, giving me a smarmy look.  
>"You're wasting your time," the first guard grumbled with a shake of his head, "let's get a hold of Troy."<p>

I rested my head back against the pillow and watched them leave. Troy… why would they be talking to Troy? Something niggled in my mind. Troy's a cop. I knew it but I didn't know how I knew it. But I didn't have long to ponder on this, a quiet noise from the bed beside me grabbed my attention as soon as the room was silent.

"Psst. Hey. Is it really you?"

A hand drew back the curtain between the beds – a young Hispanic guy in an orange jumpsuit (great, I'm in jail) was watching me, eyes wide. I blinked. He was… Cute. Like a labradoodle. I couldn't tell if he was actually young, or just had youthful features. He was looking at me like a long lost friend. Oh shit…

"Do I know you?" I asked tentatively. Was I supposed to know him?

"Oh uh, I'm Carlos. My brother was in the Saints and he told me all about you." Phew. "Listen, we gotta get you outta here."

I cocked an eyebrow at the kid, "Well I'm sure if we ask nicely," I said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I know a way out," He said quickly, his voice flooded with earnest.

"Yeah, then why are you still here?" I shot back darkly; the first instinct was mistrust, of course. Why would a stranger want to help me?  
>"I heard you were in here and I wanted to bust you out…" Carlos said, looking a little defeated. I only raised my eyebrow and he quietly continued, "Getting out is a two person job and no one else will give it a try."<p>

I couldn't help but prop myself up indignantly then – though my arms shook a little as I did. Must've been out a while… "You really expect me to trust some guy I don't even know?"

"Come on," he begged, "I just got myself shanked so I could get a chance to talk to you. Doesn't that show I'm loyal?"

Yes, was the first thought. Not the words though, "It shows that you're dumb enough to let yourself get stabbed…" I mused and I could see his frustration starting to reach boiling point.

"I'm tryin to help you!"

Christ, I didn't need this right now. "You know what I got last time I trusted someone? Blown the fuck up," I growled. That night was starting to piece together in my mind and this kid was interrupting me.

"You need me," He pressed. I snapped him a dark look.

"Hell I do I got the Saints!"

His sardonic smile didn't help calm me down, "Heh, sure you do," he muttered dryly and I faltered.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I growled quietly and he blinked back at me, the confidence returning to his eyes.

"How long you think you been out?"

"I dunno, two, maybe three weeks?"

The kid –Carlos- shook his head. I wasn't a fan of his evading my questions but I was increasingly aware of how little I knew and how dire my situation was. His words confirmed it.

"Look, I know you think you're a badass, but do you even know where you're at?" He started up, "Without me, you'll be wandering around the prison for hours, even _if_ you managed to hide from the guards that long, and _if_ you work out how to make it outside of these walls, you're gonna find your sitting on a goddamn island, and I'm pretty sure you can't outrun the coastguard."

Smarmy little… He wasn't as cute as he looked. "You got a boat stashed here somewhere?" I asked wryly. He just smiled and shrugged.

"No, but, I know where we're gonna steal one."

I breathed in deeply. Everything considered I couldn't see any better options; "…Alright. Let's get outta here."


	2. Busting Out

**This is probably going to wind up being a very long fic... Thanks for the early reviews guys! I'll try and keep my updates speedy**

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><p>I swung my legs over the edged of the bed, gingerly standing. I felt my knees buckle and gritted my teeth. Jesus, how long <em>had<em> I been out? It was just me, Carlos and the doctor in the room, who was turned away, flipping through some charts. Had to take care of her first. I stepped lightly, sensing Carlos close behind as I snuck up on her. I heard her sigh and she went to turn, so I lunged, grabbing the doctor from behind and slamming a hand over her mouth.

"Don't scream. Unless you want to end up in a body bag, don't you _fuckin_ scream." I hissed. I felt her nod frantically against my hand. I moved her towards the desk and then slammed her head hard against the timber; not enough to kill, but certainly enough to knock her out.

"Help me lift her," I threw over my shoulder to Carlos, who hurried to grab her legs. He grunted, and I noticed the thin patch of blood over his abdomen. Brave kid, though an injury like that could cost us.

We moved like a drunken crab, carrying the doctor to my old bed and using the restraints to strap her down. Carlos quickly wrapped gauze over her mouth.

"In case she wakes up." He said simply, smiling at me. We hurriedly drew the curtains around the bed. Hopefully bought us some time. Carlos had already started for the door.

"We're gonna have to sneak out over the roof, follow me," he said, pushing the doors to the infirmary open. Through another set of doors and we were at the bottom of a stairwell, with a cage over it. But Carlos wasn't aiming for that. I followed him around to beneath the stairs that concealed an old rusted door with the words 'ROOFTOP ACSESS' barely visible across it.

"I worked out the infirmary was part of the old building and not the new cellblock extension," Carlos started.

"Right," I said disinterestedly as we pried the door open. It opened not to a rooftop but a crammed row of rusted pipes and air ducts. This would take some gymnastics… We clambered and crawled through the mess of pipes, eventually squeezing through the gaps between the old and new building, till my head poked up to see the rooftop. I ducked back down when I saw a guard. Hmn. Had to make this quick and quiet. I crouched down to Carlos who was watching me expectantly.

"Let me see your shank wound," I whispered. He cocked his head quizzically and then gingerly moved his hand away from his side. The handle of the tool used had been snapped off but a little piece was still sticking out of him – looked like a toothbrush that had been sanded down to a point.

Rule one for nurses; never remove the blade till the patient is in surgery.

I, was not a nurse.

"Sorry Carlos," I whispered, quickly pressing my left hand against his mouth and wrapping my fingertips around the stub of the shank, swiftly ripping it out. Carlos' eyes bulged as he tried not to yell out. I pulled the beanie off his head and pressed it over the wound. The shank was short so it hadn't gone in to him deep, he should be fine.

"Brave man," I reassured softly, and his doe-like eyes shone a smile at me. I felt a sudden wave of unease. Something in the way he looked at me… it reminded me of myself. Of the way I looked at Julius whenever he praised me.

_I lifted my gaze to the burning, smoking mess that was the yacht, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Then, up through the smoke, on the wall above the dock, I saw a familiar figure. I felt a smile of relief. Julius!_

…_But he just stood there. Watching me._

I shook my head. No time for flashbacks.

I let Carlos hang back to catch his breath and I snuck up onto the rooftop, the small shank in hand, then quickly leapt at the guard while his back was turned. The blade couldn't do much damage; I had to make it count, stabbing right where the jugular should have been. He spluttered and I pulled him down to hide behind a large skylight, a chill running up my spine as a searchlight just missed us. I waited a beat, watching the swing of the searchlights, feeling the timing.

"Carlos, now!" I stage-whispered. I saw him pull himself up onto the roof and crouched, moving quickly to hide next to me. I ransacked the guard for his gun and wallet. Ideally I should have put his clothes on but time was against us. I unzipped the top half of my jumpsuit, using the sleeves to tie them around my waist.

"Where to?" I asked. Carlos nodded to indicate across the roof. I gave my own curt nod in reply.

"We need to stay outta the search lights, follow my lead."

It was nerve wracking, thrilling, pacing our way over the rooftops, ducking whenever a searchlight swung our way and finally making it to the fire escape and hurrying down, feet hitting the ground and ducking behind a dumpster. Almost there.

"How you doin Carlos?" I asked quickly – he looked pale, but gave me a brave smile.

"Fine, it's no problem. Okay, the docks are on the other side of the island,"

I groaned internally and followed his lead. We half crouched, half ran from bush to bush alongside the road, getting closer and closer to the docks, closer to freedom. I allowed myself to spare a glance over the small stretch of ocean to the glittering city on the other side.

_Stillwater. I'm comin baby._

We slowed as we noticed the gates to the docks – _very_ heavily guarded.

"Ok… you know any ways around this?" I whispered to Carlos as we crouched behind a small just in the stone wall.

"Uh… not really."

I cringed. _Fffaaaarrrrrrrrrrck_. I opened my mouth to snarl something at Carlos, but stopped; he was looking up at me with those damn puppy eyes, shining, apologetic and ashamed of what he obvious saw as a total failure that would forever taint the honour of his family. I sighed. Might as well get used to the fact I might never be able to stay mad at this one.

"Ok." I said, trying to focus, "We're gonna need some kind of a distrac-"

The alarms around the jail began screaming – they've finally cottoned on to the two dangerous criminals missing and the doctor-turned-bondage slave in the infirmary. My eyes flickered towards the dock gate – the guards were splintering, running to the exits of the buildings. I could have laughed. I felt a hand slap me on the shoulder.

"God had big plans for you, Boss," he said with a broad grin. If I believed in any kind of fate or deity I could have agreed with him. The clock was against us before they worked out we weren't in the building anymore so we were fast to continue our approach, pushing through the gates and made it out of a restricted zone at last, and at this time of night, no dock workers to raise the alarm. We both broke out into a sprint; I followed Carlos, more because of the restrictions of my own body than by choice. We spilled quickly down the steps and leapt up onto the boat. Well, Carlos leapt, I attempted to broach the gap and again overestimated myself, slipping and landing with a heavy thud on the side of the boat, feet splashing into the water and arms barely clinging over the edge of the railing. Carlos grunted and helped pull me up over, much to my own embarrassment. I could have yelled in frustration.

"_Shit_. How long was I out for, I can't even-"

"Three years."

I froze, splayed out over the deck of the boat, looking up at Carlos who was clutching his side.

"… What did you say?" I asked in a dangerously quiet tone.

"… Three years. And about five months… that's uh… that's why you're like that. You're lucky it's not total entropy-"

"_Three years and five fucking months?_ Shit! I'm-" I paused to do the calculations in my head, down to the months. "I'm _twenty fucking three?_"

Carlos blinked.

"_That's_ what you're upset abou- you know what, I'm just gonna start drivin this thing," he said quickly. I must have been giving him a death glare. He disappeared quickly inside the boat and revved the engine, ripping towards the city.

Three. God. Damn. Ass. Fucking. _Years_.

That was, what… ten, fifteen percent of my life? And not just any percentage. Those were supposedly big, milestone years. I'd jumped from nineteen to twenty three in the blink of an eye. Which reminded me…

I stood up on the deck and looked at myself in the inky black glass windows of the boat, discerning my own reflection.

Well, at least my hair had grown out. _A lot_. Three years worth would do that, it was now swimming down well past my shoulders and in desperate need of styling. Lack of sun had left it in the inky dark brown tone it naturally was. As Carlos picked up speed in the boat, the wind whipped up, flicking it and tangling it about my shoulders. I lifted a hand and ran it through, pausing as I felt a bare patch around th eback that ran in a line, a thick scar. I stepped closer, looking at my face. Yeah, I looked older. Not in a bad way – the puppy fat was gone and my bone structure showed up a little more. My nose was better defined, my eyes seemed darker.

'_It's like a fucking time warp…'_

I ran my hands over my body – soft, barely any muscle left. But I'd lost the gangly feel of adolescence all together – with a slight smiile I noticed my boobs and hips were certainly bigger. I glanced around, sighing to see my ass had followed suit. I paused as my fingertips brushed rough, rippled skin on the back of my arms, a patch that felt rather numb. I closed my eyes. Burns. I was grateful I hadn't been awake to endure the recovery for those. There would be more on my legs, I knew that.

I quickly whipped my arms away from my body. Now was not the time to be indulging my vanity; I turned and looked back over the water to the jail. Wow. We'd covered a lot of distance… far off I could see helicopters starting to lift away and the lights of boats starting to loop the island increasingly large circles. I felt a dark smile tug at my lips. _'Sorry boys'_.

With a contented sigh I turned and started walking for the bow, greeting my city, gazing over the familiar docks, the high rise of Downtown, the…

"Shit." I said breathlessly. Right where the buildings should have dropped away into the shadowy little neighbourhood I called home, a new city had erupted, glistening, glittering. My mind flashed back to the yacht, back to that toad-face Hughes. _"The sad truth of this situation is that for me to be a winner, I have to level your neighbourhood, and salt the earth"_

I heard steps behind me.

"That's the _Row?_" I said breathlessly

"It is now," Carlos responded darkly

I shook my head, "Jesus, when did this happen?"

"When Ultor got involved."

I blinked and gave him a sidewards glance, "The clothing company?"

Carlos just nodded solemnly; "After Hughes was killed in that bombing of yours, Ultor picked up the pieces. Now they're everywhere, on TV, on billboards, hell if you ever forget who Ultor is just look to Saints Row and you'll see that fuckin eyesore." His voice was so bitter it didn't take a genius to work it out.

"… You lived there too?"

"Yeah. Ultor began buying up the property, forced us all out. We didn't really have anywhere to go; I was livin with my mom in this tiny apartment with two other families for six months before I got busted.

"For what?"

"… Holdin' up a liquor store. I needed to get her outta there, y'know?" I heard him sigh. "Doesn't matter now, she uh, she died not long after I went to jail."

I frowned, staring at the tower Ultor had built. Right over the top of my home.

"Your brother?"

"He was taken out by the Rollerz before then." Carlos replied quietly. There was a long silence between us.

"… Carlos?" I broached.

"Yeah?" he replied.

"Who's driving the boat?"

The young Hispanic swore and quickly ducked back inside to the controls, redirecting us to the docks.

As soon as we pulled up I jumped to the deck, smiling and breathing in freedom. The sun was rising, spilling light over the bay, and as a gust of wind ripped through my hair I was briefly reminded of cruising over the east bridge with Johnny. Something cold slipped into my gut when I thought of Gat – I don't know why, I just sort of… something told me he was in trouble. I bit my lip, turning to Carlos as he jumped off the boat.

"Where can I find the other Saints?" I asked quickly. Carlos raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

"_What_ other Saints?" he replied.

"What're you talking about?"

Carlos turned to face me, a gentle frown over his features. He drew a breath and broke it to me.

"Without anyone to lead them, the Saints fell apart. Once the Brotherhood, Samedi and Ronin showed up the few that were left dropped their flags."

Christ, this was a lot to take in. It had only felt like a few weeks at most but suddenly I'd turned twenty three, lost my gang, had my neighbourhood levelled and had been abandoned by nearly everyone I had trusted.

I looked to Carlos. He was a saint to have stayed loyal for so long.

Heh. Boom tish.

"Look, I know you didn't ask for it, but my advice is to keep your head down," he urged, thinking straight for me. "The cops are after you and a lot has changed. I say you just go grab a beer and soak up as much information as you can."

"Thanks Carlos," I responded absentmindedly. Sweet kid. It was good to know I had one ally.


	3. Seconds Away

**Bugger it. I've got plenty of chapters ready, so I'm going to just pop them all up instead of this dramitc 'stay tuned for the next episode' crap. Again, JoeEngland, thanks for the useful feedback. I am trying to do something wiht her last glimpses of Julius, just have to cross my fingers and hope it works out :)**

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><p>Gat clenched his fists tighter as the cold steel was snapped around his wrists. Damn fine suit and they had to go and spoil the look with these things…<p>

Two guards marched him out into the mahogany courtroom – he could see Lee standing to his left at the defence, the prosecutor sneered at him from the right.

This wasn't going to work. He knew it. Everyone knew it. But he kept his cool.

"Court is in session, all rise,"

Gat breathed out. Suddenly, it wasn't enough. He'd been on this earth for a little more than quarter of a century, it should sound like a long time but it wasn't. He thought prison was driving him nuts, but… he was going to die. And soon. This bitch judge would find him guilty of three hundred and eighty seven murders and send him to the chair.

Death had never scared him before and it didn't even now, but _shit_, he hadn't wanted to go like this. He thought he'd be finished in a blaze of glory, fighting off his enemies or sacrificing his own life to rescue his friends. Something relatively noble. But he had no gang, no friends left, not really.

There was the girl, the only one who hadn't betrayed him was still stretched out helplessly in a coma, and he wasn't there to protect her from anyone with a vendetta coming after her. He'd managed to see her once, barely a week after his incarceration when he'd been shanked and delivered to the infirmary. He couldn't believe his eyes at first, hadn't wanted to believe it was her. 'Jane Doe' was the official title as it was for anyone without a name, but he'd heard some of the nurses refer to her as by some princess's name, Sleeping Beauty or Snow White or something. The girl would have knocked them out if she'd heard that. But looking at her laying there, forehead, torso and legs wrapped up in bandages, unconscious, prone… it was so wrong. She was the woman who'd saved his life on more than one occasion, who the Saints had taken to calling 'Boss', for lack of anything else.

And Aisha-

He bowed his head a little. _Eesh_. She came to see him often as possible at the jail, usually disguised as best she could so no one would recognise her. She was an angel for doing what she did. He'd more than once found himself escaping into his memories of her.

They'd actually met in junior high; she was one year ahead of him. But they'd never really hung out till high school when they fell in with the same crowd. He'd been cavalier and charming, she had pretended like she was too good for him and their epic, unrequited love story began, dating on and off for years. Both had easily flared tempers which resulted in passionate breakups and makeups.

Then she got famous. Johnny let a breath escape him – he'd been so damn resentful of her. With her fame she'd almost forgotten them all, her past life. She'd almost forgotten _him_.

But that seemed like another era. Now she was the only steady thing left in his life, the only light. And he was going to be executed, and she'd be alone.

Gat had never felt angrier at the world.

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><p>Ah, sweet beer, is there anything you <em>can't<em> solve?

I felt my shoulders relax after a long swig of the cold drink, drawing in a deep breath. I had some time now. Time to wrap my mind around things. My situation. With the little money I'd stolen from the guards I'd killed, I'd managed to get some new clothes from _Sloppy Seconds_ – torn black jeans and a black tank top. Then, I'd gone straight to a bar in the Red Light district, and ordered a well deserved brew. What little I could see of the city by then hadn't changed too much but the Red Light had become a weird mixture; it was being renewed a little, some of the buildings cleaner, the esplinade totally re-vamped. But it still hadn't lost it's seediness, sitting right next to Shivington which looked like it was now packed and overpopulated by the displaced poor. I felt an eye twitch at that.

The news was blaring on the bar TV, some anchor prattling on about stuff. I forced myself to pay attention. What better way to catch up, right?

"_We now cross live to Jane Valderama at the Courthouse, Jane?"_

"_Thanks Jack. In what is turning out to be the trial of the century, a notorious member of a gang once known as the Third Street Saints, Johnny Gat, was arrested in an assassination attempt against then decorated police officer, Troy Bradshaw."_

I paused mid-swig and put my beer down, feeling my jaw drop. Gat's picture flickered over the screen next to Troy's, a photo of him in full police uniform.

"Well fuck me in both ears…" I muttered.

"_In the resulting trial, Gat was convicted in one count of attempted murder, and a staggering three hundred and eighty seven counts of first degree murder, promptly sending him, to death row."_

I sat there, frozen, transfixed by the report, my eyes fixed on Johnny's blurred photo. I'd need to find a way to get him out of this… _how_ I had no idea.

"Hey Barry, turn that shit off!"

I snapped my head around to the drunkard, some redneck in a tattered red shirt. Barry was quick and quiet in complying with the guys command.

"Yeah I was watchin that," I snapped darkly. The redneck turned and looked me up and down.

"I guess you're not anymore, are ya _bitch_?" He sneered, settling onto the barstool next to me and pouring more grog down his throat. I felt my eyelashes flutter a little and my lips purse. Yeah. Not dealing with that right now.

I grabbed the neck of a full bottle on the bar and swung backwards, barely looking, and broke it over the guy's face. He wordlessly flew backwards from his chair and landed with a heavy thud on the grotty carpet. I turned with a small smile to the bartender who was watching me, mouth hanging open and eyes bulging.

"Could you turn that TV back on?" I asked. No need to antagonise this guy. He nodded quickly and flicked the TV back on. Jane was still reporting.

" – _few short moments, we will be allowed back in the courtroom and will find out once and for all if Mr Gat goes home a happy man, or a dead one. Back to you Jack."_

I felt my heart skip a beat. "Oh _shit_!" I murmured. I pulled myself up off the stool and started for the door. Now or never – Johnny was a stones throw away and it would be much easier to bust someone out of a courtroom than a high security cell on death row. I ran for the road, waving an arm and stepping off the curb to stop a car and going for the driver's side window. The man driving wound down the window and gave me a sweetly concerned smile.

"You alright miss? What c- ARGH!"

I'd reached through the window and slammed his head against the steering wheel, ripped the door open and yanked him out. He rolled on the bitumen stunned, as I threw myself in the drivers' seat, tearing away and slamming the door shut as I went.

_Still got it,_ I thought and allowed myself a wry smile. You'd think people living in Stillwater would've been used to this by now.

I sped through the streets and swerved around other cars, scraping a few as I went. I fiddled with one hand, checking my gun and the clips I had, hoping it would be enough. I kept trying to develop a plan as I neared the courthouse but the best I could come up with was to march in there, see which courtroom had the most reporters outside of it, shoot the lock off the door, kick it down and raise hell. By the time I pulled up out the front of the courthouse the plan hadn't developed anymore detail and the only comfort I took was that I still had the element of surprise, which hopefully would bring me some luck.

* * *

><p>Johnny was beyond caring anymore about the outcome of this trial. No, he'd never expected it to work. He'd just hoped it could… buy him some time. You never knew right? Miracles could happen. Still, the judge was being a smarmy bitch, like a black Judge Judy. So of course he found himself antagonising her.<p>

"I'm curious Mr Gat if you can keep your cavalier attitude with five thousand volts running through your body." The judge sneered at him. Gat returned with a glare;

"Yeah, and I'm curious to see if you can keep actin like a douche bag when I shove that gavel _up your ass_." He spat. Legal Lee quickly cleared his throat and asked for that statement to be stricken from the record, giving Johnny the urge to ram his elbow into his lawyer's nose.

Suddenly everyone in the courtroom jolted at the sound of gunfire in the hall. The guard moved and drew his gun, creeping towards the door.

It suddenly flew out of it's frame flattening the guard, burned bullet marks on the hinges and lock - and Johnny felt his jaw drop a little as a miracle stepped into the courtroom.

* * *

><p>I stepped over the door, feeling it wobble beneath my feet. My eyes fell on the gun the guard had dropped when he was crushed, and I snatched it up, flinging my arm around the judges' stand and pointing it between the eyes of the second guard.<p>

"Drop it." I warned icily. His mouth was hanging open and he quickly complied, the gun discharging as it hit the floor and sending a bullet ricocheting around the room, everyone hitting the floor except for me and Johnny.

I smacked the butt of the gun hard into the guard's temple and he dropped to the ground, unconscious. I fished for the keys, straightening and turned to look at Johnny. He was staring at me, still as if he'd been carved of marble, his expression unreadable.

Christ, I couldn't decide if jail had been kind to him or not. He looked older (I had to remind myself he _was_ older). The white tips of his hair had dulled to a softer grey; his features were hardened and sharper than before. And he'd bulked up a hell of a lot. He looked _damn_ good. I smiled; it hadn't felt that long to me, but it was good to see him. He didn't speak till I started walking towards him.

"Shit. Bout time your burnt ass woke up."

I cocked an eyebrow and tossed him the set of keys. Now was not the time to be distracted by a huge emotional reunion, we were both aware. "You alright Gat?" I asked. He caught the keys easily and unlocked the handcuffs, rubbing his wrists.

"Yeah, aside from almost getting sent to the chair I'm fuckin great." Gat paused to give me a lengthy look up and down to the point I almost felt uncomfortable. "You look different," he finally continued, "You do something with your hair?"

Smartass. I ran a hand through my locks which were already developing a bad habbit of falling into my eyes, "Ready to get outta here?" I asked with a smile, handing him one of the guards' guns.

Then it was like the old days again; we ran through the corridors of the courthouse, taking out the handful of guards that stood in our way and made it down to the foyer.

"You got a car ready?" he asked loudly over the sound of sporadic gunfire.

"Yeah, out the front," I said turning to look through the front windows to check the situation. I heard Gat swear and I was suddenly knocked over as the deafening boom of a shotgun rang out through the marble foyer. Gat was crouched over me, shielding me and firing at a cop that was cocking a shotgun – Johnny took him out before he could get out another round. I looked up, seeing a spray of pellet-holes on the plaster right where my head would have been.

_Close call..._ I thought with a shiver. Johnny grabbed my wrist and pulled me to my feet.

"Thanks Johnny," I said breathlessly as we started for the front doors.

"What, that coma do some permanent damage, or are you still in it?" he said with a laugh, following me at a sprint across the courtyard Well, I felt like I was sprinting, he was just keeping pace with me and my feeble attempts at exerting myself. The air was full with the sound of police sirens – one of the cop cars tore around the corner to greet us as we ran for the waiting car I'd jacked – I jumped and slid over the hood of the car to the driver's side, whipping the door open settling in, Gat jumping in shotgun, and we tore off, Gat firing to keep the cops of our asses. Nothing was really said at first – he was busy taking out any cop cars that found us and I was concentrating on my driving, trying to loose them in a city that was now only half-familiar. We lost them at some point in the suburbs district, both breathing a sigh of relief.

"...You really outta shape there,' I heard him tease when he noticed I was still breathing heavily. I weakly punched him on the arm, a pathetic attempt that I hoped he'd put down as playful, "_Really_ outta shape," he reiterated with a laugh.

"I was blown up and have been unconcious for three years," I said incredulously to him, "yeah, I'm out of fucking shape." I tried to slow my breathing. How could anyone sleep that long and still feel tired? Gat purred a low chuckle and I felt him give me a friendly slap on the shoulder.

"… Thanks for bustin me out. Eesh would'a killed me if I got executed." Gat finally said with a broad smile. I felt a wry grin creep up half my face.

"You _still_ with Aisha?"

"Yeah, well things got tough with her being on the DL and me on death row, but we found a way to make it work." He said nonchalantly. A small silence fell. "… I saw you in there, y'know." He continued. I spared him glance. His smile was gone, mouth pulled into a grimace. "I swear I didn't think you were ever gonna wake up, you was all covered in bandages and shit, these tubes and wires sticking outta ya,"

"…How long were you in jail?" I broached, redirecting the conversation.

"Two years, thirty one days," Gat said, folding his hands behind his head and reclining back. I gave a small chuckle.

"Not that you were counting." I said. We exchanged a smile. "…so Troy was a fucking cop… I feel like I should be surprised."

"Hey, there's a lot you gotta catch up on," he said, "Julius is missin, Dex sold out to Ultor. The whole situation got fucked pretty quickly after that explosion of yours. Take a right up here."

I tugged the steering wheel to turn into a street framed with neat houses, pulling up to the curb when Gat indicated and letting him out.

"Okay man, I'll drop by later tonight and-"

"What?" Johnny interrupted and turned back to look at me sharply, leaning against the open window, "I haven't seen you in three fuckin years, the least you could do is come in for a beer,"

I blinked and my eyes met his. We hadn't really allowed ourselves a proper greeting so it seemed reasonable that he'd be annoyed at me for taking off right away. I gave a sad smile.

"Johnny, you haven't seen Aisha in a while either, and trust me, if I had a boyfriend cooped up on death row for two years I would not want _anyone else_ there for the reunion."

I raised an eyebrow at him and waited for the penny to drop.

"Riiight," he said finally with a grin and a nod, "Thanks for the courtesy Boss."

I grinned, raising a hand in a small wave.

"See you soon Johnny."


	4. Second Home

It was well after seven before I pulled up again out the front of Aisha's. I glanced around to check the street was clear (old habit) before stepping out of the car. the air was clear and still; I'd never really expected Aisha to be the suburban type, but considering she was on the DL it made more sense than her living in a highrise.

Johnny greeted me at the door with a handshake that pulled into a hug. "Come on in," he offered, mimicking my habit by checking outside before shutting the door.

"You want a beer?" he asked with a smile. I smiled and nodded, feeling my brow crease as I saw him leave the room. He was dressing better, an observation that made me feel like an immature teenager by comparison. "Hungry?" he called out from the kitchen.

"Nah, I grabbed some Freckle Bitches on the way over." I said, waving a hand, even though he couldn't see me. I glanced around; Aisha's place was nice. Polished, modern, but not over done. The walls were scattered with her posters and golden and platinum records. Gat strolled back in, tossing me the drink and setting himself down comfortably on one of the sofas. I twisted the cap off my beer and took a grateful swig. Gat nodded to a couch.

"You can put your feet up," he said. I raised an eyebrow and gave him a wry smile.

"Gat, I've had my feet up for three years."

He chuckled and nodded sagely. "You get much done?" he asked.

I nodded. "Got in touch with some of the old runners. I can pull a few jobs; cash flow won't be too much of a problem... when did Saints and Sinners close? I've been trying to get into contact with Rosa." _Saints and Sinners _had been one of my largest and most lucrative brothels, partly owing it's success to the fact that there was just about nothing a ho wouldn't do to get a job there; it was safe, comfortable, and you worked with Rosa. And if there was one woman in the city who could run whores better than I did it was Madam Rosa.

"From what I heard, the Brotherhood ran them out. They ain't really into whore runnin', but when the pimps started showin up again the Brotherhood were all to fuckin happy to help'em out for a small cut." Johnny said apologetically.

I felt myself glower. "Who are these _B__rotherhood_ fucks anyway? And the... _Ronin_? and the Sam... sammy...'

"Samedi?"

"Yeah, those guys."

Gat took another long pull from his beer and frowned, "Sorry there boss," he said, "I been cooped up nearly as long as you been in that coma, don't got much on them. All I can gather is that the Brotherhood are a bunch of thugs, you know, knockin over convenience stores n'shit, low level game. The Sons'a Samedi got the drug market cornered, and the Ronin..." he paused to take another swig of his beer (and, I thought, for dramatic emphasis), "They're pretty much the VK with swords, riding around on cheap bikes."

I raised an eyebrow. "_S__words?_"

Johnny gave a mocking smile, "Oh yeah. Really takin the whole _Yakuza_ thing to heart."

I gave a small chuckle and shook my head, glancing up when afamiliar voice sounded from upstairs that caused me to smile.

"_Johnny, who's that?_"

Gat hollered back up the stairs to her, unable to hide the affectionate smile, "Yo come to the living room and find out!"

I glanced over my shoulder as I heard her heels echoing over the wooden stairs, "Johnny, I don't care if you just broke out of prison, get your feet _off_ the coffee ta-"

She froze when she saw me. I smiled at her – she looked different. Well, everyone did, but she seemed to have matured a lot; her hair was cut back into a pixie crop, and she wore an expensive looking pantsuit that was too nice to be wearing around the house.

"Oh my God. It's you," she said, jaw dropped.

My smile widened to a grin. "Surprised Aisha?" I asked, strolling over to greet her properly.

She raised an eyebrow at me, smiling broadly as we walked up to hug. Her embrace was tight, then she pulled back, hands still on my shoulders and looked me up and down. "What, that you're _here_, or that you're _talking_?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Pick one."

She sighed, shaking her head. "We all thought you were _dead_,"

"I almost was," I shrugged.

"Well, for someone that was blown to hell, you look great," she continued, "Did you do something with your hair?"

I gave a small laugh and ran a hand through my locks again, "Yeah, I've been getting that a lot-"

"Tear-jerkin as this reunion is," Gat interrupted, causing us to simultaneously snap a look at him, "Could we get down to business?"

I took a swig of my beer, moving forward to lean on the back of the couch.

"What's the rush?" Aisha said quickly.

Gat had clearly had his fill of girl-talk for now. "_I_ been cooped up on death row and _that_ bitch has been laid out in a coma."

I nodded – there was too much to do and I didn't feel like there was much time for relaxing.

"We definitely need to remind those muthafuckers who we are," I said darkly.

"And this _can't_ wait till after dinner?" Aisha stressed one last time.

"No." we replied in unison, throwing her a quick look. A laughing smile replaced her frown.

"You two haven't changed at all," she said affectionately, her smile much more directed at Johnny than me.

"Well you know there's a sayin' about dogs and blowin' shit up," he replied with a dark chuckle. He looked back to me, expression serious. "So what's the plan?"

I looked down at my beer, taking another swig and considering my options. Start with the obvious first.

"We get our crew together," I said, trying to make it sound simple so I would believe it was, "_Once_ we got that, we can work on taking our city back."

"And _where_ were you planning on having this little meeting?" Aisha piped up. Damn, hadn't thought of that. I glanced to Gat, who was looking at me with the same expression, and as if by telepathy, the same idea crossed our minds. We turned to observe the living room.

"Well this place is pretty spacious," Johnny suggested. I glanced back at Aisha to check her reaction. Yeah, not gonna happen.

"No." she said flatly, confirming what I thought. I grinned slyly.

"The colours are very soothing," I complimented lightly.

"_No_." she reiterated. I repressed a chuckle.

"C'mon Eesh," Johnny tried, for all the world sounding like a petulant child.

"This ain't no fucking gang clubhouse!" she snapped back. Discussion _over_.

Gat glanced an apology at me but my mouth was still curled into a dry smile.

"No problem." I said, taking another swig of my drink, "Real estate is the smaller of the issues at the moment. You know any other places? We need something that's not in the open,"

Johnny drummed his fingers against his the bottle, then nodded sharply.

"Yeah. You up for a drive?"

"Sure."

* * *

><p>Gat pulled up outside the old mission – the entrance was in a parking lot, tucked away in the red light district.<p>

"So this is it, huh?" I said, raising a sceptical eyebrow at the broken sign, encouraging people to 'NJOY O R M RNING ERVIC'. I sighed, "Gotta say Gat, religious houses are kinda been there, done that," I said coolly. He just gave me a knowing smile.

"We ain't stayin in the mission house," he said, pushing the drivers' door open and stepping out. I blinked, intrigued, and followed suit.

"Get this, a couple 'a years ago an earthquake dropped half the city below sea level. Now most of the city was rebuilt properly, but in this district, they just went and built over the top of it rather than clearing everything out and trying to level the ground. Cheaper."

"Allright," I said, watching him go to the trunk of the car pulling out two SMGs and tossing them to me, taking a shotgun for himself. '_Ok, so this would be interesting,_'

"Under the mission house is an old hotel. Plenty of room, and out of sight." He said. I followed his lead to the double doors of the mission and we pushed them open – the lock had been busted long ago. I glanced at the Blossum and TK I was carrying.

"So what's the catch?" I said with a smile. He threw a look at me, a dark grin curling up half his mouth.

"We gotta evict the current tenants."

I raised my eyebrows. I hadn't had a good fight in a while.

"Sounds like fun."

We walked down to the lower level of the mission, having to thread through at least three sub basements before spotting a rather large hole in the wall, clearly where the current residents had broken through to the building beneath. We stepped into what might looked like a very old storage cupboard, then out of that into a hall framed with wood panelling and peeling wallpaper. We followed it down, keeping an eye out for any sign of life, till we found ourselves at the top of a grand staircase that swept down to meet its twin on the other side, then they both poured into a huge reception area.

"You weren't kidding about space," I said admirably. In the foyer two ratty old couches sat by a fire contained in an old bin. A few homeless people were wandering around.

Gat cocked the shotgun and fired over the staircase, a few of the people giving startled shrieks and scuttling away. We exchanged a glance, and started down the stairs.

"It's not gonna be that easy, is it?" I asked sceptically. There were manic shouts from the doors, and dozens of crazed homeless came charging at us.

"Nope." Gat replied with a grin, and we opened fire on them.

Some of the people were smart enough to keep running and escaped up the stairs. We moved through the maze of rooms outside the foyer, spotting shanties which Johnny got to destroying, and I was shooting anyone who came running at us.

There were more of them squatting down there than I thought – they wielded knives and baseball bats, charging at us fearlessly, even when their shanties were taken apart.

I fired and reloaded again and again till finally I ran out of ammo, Gat swore when he found himself in the same situation. The last of the homeless began circling us, crazed grins across their filthy faces. I reached down and picked up a butterfly knife from one of the dead, moving so Johnny and I were back to back. Ordinarily I would have preferred something blunt, but I was becoming familiar with the liimitations of my strength; blades were a better option for me at the moment.

"More than I expected," I threw over my shoulder. Gat cracked his neck.

"Doin this the old fashioned way then," he said.

The bums charged, and for a moment I thought they might overrun us. I flicked the knife and moved easily into fighting again, striking out at each one that attempted to grab at me. Gat was having no trouble – he'd always been a good fighter but he'd gotten a lot bigger and stronger in the past three years.

Soon the last of the homeless lay at our feet. I glanced over my shoulder at Johnny with a satisfied smile.

"Killin just ain't been the same without you," he said.

* * *

><p>I kicked some debris along the cracked marble floor, picking up a piece of cardboard and tossing it into the bin-fire the newly deceased homeless guys had built.<p>

"So whaddya think?" I heard Johnny ask. I gazed in and drank in the surroundings. It was big, sure, with plenty or rooms tucked away and had probably been a very grand hotel once. But now, with the broken statues, cracked floors, rubbish everywhere, the occasional dead body and pool of blood…

"It's kind of a shithole," I said dryly. Even if we cleaned it up we'd need to get a generator in here, and plumbing would be an absolute bitch.

"True," Johnny agreed, sprawling himself on a rotting old sofa the bums had dragged in, "But it's a shithole with _potential_."

I frowned, a hand on my hip, "I dunno man," I said, flopping down on the couch next to him.

"Ah, c'mon, some paint, a couple 'a flat screens and a stripper pole, this place'd be aiight." He said, setting his feet up on a crate. I nodded, feeling myself a little more at ease, gazing around the hall. In its day it would have been amazing… with some work it could get there again. I looked over to him, raising an eyebrow.

"_Stripper_ pole?" I asked dryly.

Gat blinked at me. "Yeah. Thought you'd be into that."

I felt my brow crease a little in confusion. "…What?"

"Yeah, havin some girls in here, doin dances, doin favours,"

My jaw dropped a little, "I wouldn't be talking like that in front of Aisha if I were you."

"Not for _me_," he shot back, clearly insulted. Johnny wasn't that sort of guy, I knew that, "But still, you're a dyke, you ge-"

"_WHAT?_"

He blinked at my outburst, "Sorry Boss, didn't think you'd have issue with that word,"

"The _word_?" I said, astounded, "Johnny I'm not – why did you think I was-"

"Wait, wait - you' _not_ a lesbian?" he said loudly, looking at me like I'd just ripped my face off in front of him. My jaw dropped.

"_No_." I stressed, absolutely stunned. "_Why_ would you think I was gay?"

"Well you had that short hair and I never saw you with a guy, I just thought-"

He stopped and narrowed his eyes at me; I had started laughing.

"_Seriously_ Gat?" I choked out through peals of laughter, "Oh my god... you've known me for what, four years now? And that _whole time_…"

He was running a hand through his hair, "I can't believe you're _straight_," he said. From the look on his face he was trying to analyse several memories at once. I reached out and slapped a hand on his shoulder, trying desperately to pull a serious face.

"Johnny," I said, gravely as I could, "I'm sorry, but I was _born_ this way," I said using every ounce of my self control not to laugh again. He shook his head, a laughing smile finally over his face.

"You're an asshole," he said, leaning back onto the couch. A small silence fell and I glanced around the place.

"So we got the hideout," I said, "… All we need now is the gang."

Gat sat up, pulling out his phone, apparently grateful to be back to business.

"Lieutenants?"

"Yeah. I know one guy, Carlos. He helped me bust outta jail, seems resourceful. But we'll need more." I said. Gat was running through his call list.

"I know some people from jail, no alliances to the new gangs. Could set up a meet'n'greet for you-"

"And you go street side to recruit?" I finished. He nodded.

"Who are they?" I asked.

"Got two in mind, they should be out by now. A guy called Peirce, I seen him fight, he seemed pretty tough and he knows his tactics." He paused and scrolled a little further through his phone, "The other is this hippy chick Shaundi,"

I opened my mouth to retort but he anticipated it and spoke right over the top of me. "Trust me, she's smarter than she looks, she knows a lotta people and is all over the drug scene. Easy money."

I relaxed back onto the sofa. I knew I could trust his judgement.

"Alright." I said, "Make the call."


	5. New Enemies

**Okay, might be a little while till the next chapter is up, it still needs a LOT of proof reading and editing. Hope you all enjoyed the little spitfire of chapters, I really just wanted them up and out of the way.**

* * *

><p>"<em>She's starting to cause a stir. Rumour has it she met with the leader of the Brotherhood. They could be working together. If that's the case, her intentions are clear."<em>

"_No sign of Julius?"_

"_No sir."_

"… _She's going to cause us problems. Reports say she's been spotted in the red light district…"_

"_Sir?"_

"_Do what you do best."_

* * *

><p>I gave a hearty sigh of satisfaction, scrubbing the shampoo through my freshly styled hair and singing the <em>Cutey Honey <em>theme to myself.

"Bap bap baya, bap baya baaa…"

For a motel that would rent out by the hour, the shower facilities were surprisingly good. The new hideout could have as much potential as it wanted, but without plumbing (or electricity at the moment) it was no home. I'd had offers from plenty of people to stay with them till I got a proper place of my own but I wasn't up for it; Gat and Aisha needed their space (I dropped by often enough as it was), Shaundi also lived way out in the 'burbs and was inclined to huge parties and having guys over, so I got the feeling out lifestyles might clash a little.

The motel was close to the hideout and very central; sure you had to put up with very vocal neighbours, but I had the place to myself and it cost me next to nothing to stay there. It was good enough. Carlos said he'd swing by later and give me a ride to the hideout; I didn't need one, but he was so damn eager to please, so I agreed.

I yelped as a sudd slipped into my eye and began flushing it out. Grumpily I rinsed the shampoo out, starting to lather conditioner through my hair and scrub my skin clean, fingers running over the rippling scars on the back of my legs.

I paused when I felt them, my mind wandering back to that night, back to seeing Julius. I'm almost certain it was him... but why would he _not_ help me?

_'You know why. Don't try to ingore the obvious answer that he betr'_ I tried to shake the dark thought out of my head, but I couldn't deny it. Julius had... _something_ to do with what happened to me. The only question I could think was _why? _Did he not know I was going to be on that boat? No... no he knew, he must have. He saw me.

I leant my head against the titled wall of the shower, closing my eyes as I felt a headache spreading from the back of my skull. I forced my thoughts to other things;to the plan of attack, now that the crew was coming together.

After meeting with Shaundi and Peirce, I agreed with Gat they'd make good lieutenants. I put Peirce in charge of the Ronin – he was ambitious and enthusiastic, I was pretty sure he wasn't going to let me down. Shaundi was on the Samedi. Apparently the Samedi had the drug market cornered, so she seemed like the obvious choice. Lastly, the Brotherhood went to Carlos. He was inexperienced, but was one of the first back with results, actually setting up a meeting with Maero, the hulking, tattooed, sideshow of a Leader of the Brotherhood and accompanying me as backup.

Teaming up with Maero had at first seemed like a decent idea – it would be one less gang to fight, one less enemy endangering the lives of my crew. And with their foothold in the city it'd be a good head start for us. But then he had to go and make me that bullshit offer.

_Eighty-Twenty_…

I sneered. I knew what I was capable of; I'd conquered this city before. He wanted to go into a partnership with me, and give me _twenty fucking percent_?

In truth I'd never expected the eighty, not if it was supposed to be a partnership. In my head I'd been trying to work out the options – Brotherhood keeps their own turf and anything else they gain from the Samedi or Ronin, the same for the Saints, and we go into an easy alliance, getting a small cut from each other. Very 'You scratch my back I'll scratch yours,'

But his idea was different; once 'We' had conquered Stillwater (meaning _me_. If he was capable of taking the city by himself he would have done so by now) the Brotherhood and Saints would divide it equally. And by equally he meant giving me _twenty fucking percent_? The number was more than insulting. He clearly had no idea who I was, what I could do.

So I'd made the uneasy decision of leaving the Brotherhood alone for now. Let them watch us take on the other gangs and win. Give him some time to change his mind. If not… well, they'd just go the way of the Rollerz, Vice Kings and Carnales.

I shut off the water and twisted my hair, wringing it out, grabbing a towel and started rubbing my body dry.

The trouble was now we had no bank roll. I was unsure about tackling the Samedi; logic stated that seeing as our hideout was in the middle of their turf it would make sense to clear them out first to make ourselves less vulnerable. But it would end up being the exact opposite; we'd be overwhelmed and overrun by them if we started antagonising them now.

So, we'd start with the northern island, just like last time.

I wiped a hand over the mirror to clear away the mist and went to study my face and brush my hair (I loved having long hair again), but heard a door click outside my bathroom. The maid for a place like this would usually never bother coming in to 'clean' (and I use the term loosely) till someone checked out. I wrapped the towel around my body, stepping quietly and glancing round the corner. No one. Still, I was uneasy; I felt naked without my gun.

Or I felt naked because I was naked.

I stepped out into the small room and made my way to the dresser knowing a pistol and SMG were tucked away in the top drawer. It was a comfort thing. But a shiver suddenly raced up my spine and I heard a muted footstep on the carpet behind me as I went to open it, and for a split second saw the thick wire stretched between two hands slip over my head. My hands raced up to my throat as it was yanked back, and I felt my body hit the assassin's behind me – dammit, this guy was _huge_. He grunted as I struggled, gasping for a breath, my hands wedged between my throat and the wire, the only thing stopping him from closing off my windpipe. I tried to kick him but it was a very awkward angle – my feet found the dresser and I used it to lift myself up, swinging back and slamming my heel into his knee, earning a pained yell from him. I pushed against the wire with my hands and drew a quick breath. I heard him grunt, hopefully he'd figure out this wasn't going to work.

The next thing I knew he spun, using the momentum and throwing me against the wall. A strangled noise escaped my sore throat when the plaster gave way behind me and I tumbled to the filthy carpet, my towel coming loose. I looked up quickly – he'd produced a disturbingly large knife and was about to swing it at me. I grabbed the towel, the closest thing I had to a weapon at this point, and whipped it out, the fabric wrapping around his hand and the blade – I yanked and quickly rolled out of the way, and on hands and knees pounced for the dresser, pulling the draw out and blindly reaching for the first gun my hand landed on, fingers curling around a Shepherd. I turned and fired as he lunged at me again, shooting him once in the chest, again in the face, the second shot an instant kill. It didn't stop his momentum though; the body fell forward, and I rolled out of the way just as it collapsed to the floor.

I released a breath, allowing me to think for a moment it was over.

And suddenly the windows were exploding, bullets pouring in. I listened for the sound of the gunshots to identify the gun – a TK Urban, not a rifle. This guy had backup, my shooting must have alerted them. Subconsciously I counted the seconds till they ran out of ammo and would have to reload (I'd heard a lot of TK's in my time, it was one of my favourite SMGs), the moment there was a break in the firing I stood, swinging my aim through the window, spotting the gunman on the balcony opposite. I fired, seeing his body jerk and shudder when the bullets hit.

I breathed heavily in the sudden silence; hearing shouts and screams from the street below. There was a banging on the wall from next door.

"_Keep it down in there!"_

I rolled me eyes. The room was littered with broken glass and plaster; the shredded curtains flew back into the room as the wind billowed in.

Ok… so I was finding a new place to stay.

Suddenly there was a heavy kick on the door, and it burst open. I swung the gun at the doorframe and pulled the trigger; the gun clicked to let me know I was out of ammo.

"Boss!" the familiar voice yelped. I blinked.

"Oh, Carlos." I said with relief, lowering my gun, never being so thankful to have run out of bullets. He just stood there, staring at me, gun in hand. I narrowed me eyes.

"_What?_" I snapped. He cleared his throat and I noticed he wasn't looking at my face. I glanced down. Oh. "Do you mind turning around?"

"Huh? Oh, right," Carlos muttered, quickly turning around to face the hallway. I rummaged through my dresser drawers, quickly yanking on underwear, bra, and whatever clothes my hands landed on, all the while trying to avoid stepping on glass or the large dead assassin on the ground next to my bed. Christ this was awkward.

"So uh, you know who those guys were?" I heard him ask.

"Not a clue, but they were pros" I replied. They'd wanted this quick and quiet, the guns a last resort. "Ok, decent." I said, tugging on a pair of canvas sneakers and twisting my hair up, fastening it in place with a pen. Carlos glanced over his shoulder briefly, his usually coffee toned face flushed with red. He moved into the room, looking down at the hit man's body, checking his pockets.

"There's nothing on him," he said, sounding disappointed. I shrugged, moving to the dresser and scooping my makeup and toiletries back into my bag, pulling open draws and following suit with my few scraps of clothes. I sighed when I realised I could fit all of my worldly possessions into a satchel.

"Carlos, there are hundreds of people in this city who want me dead." I assured him. "Guess I'll just be staying at the hideout for a while." I threw a look over my shoulder and saw him staring at me. I glared at him.

"Stop picturing it Carlos." I said sharply. He shook his head quickly and mumbled an apology.

"Yeah uh, we should be going." He said quickly, stepping over the body at his feet and shooting out the door. I sighed, following him out.

* * *

><p>Carlos and I had barely started down the steps into the hideout before Peirce came jogging up.<p>

"Listen Boss, I got an idea," he said quickly. I raised an eyebrow delicately and nodded at him to continue.

"So, rumour has it the Ronin got some ties to Ultor, I wasn't sure at first but when I looked into it, I found out most of the security at Poseidon's are actually Ronin bangers-"

"Poseidon?"

"The casino up at the wharf"

I nodded, letting him continue. "Turns out the Ronin got a huge stake in-"

I stopped abruptly at the sound of gunfire, though I seemed the only one concerned.

"What the hell was that?" I asked quickly.

"Shooting range," Carlos said with a smile, "Johnny set it up so anyone can go get some practise."

The shots were replaced by the loud rattling of a Krukov. "Something tells me Gat's in there now?" I asked. Peirce nodded. I followed the sound of gunfire, Peirce and Carlos keeping in toe. The range was set up 'outside', or more accurately, the space that would have been the courtyard of the hotel. Large pylons held up the new surfaces the city had paved over the top of it, turning it into a cavern. Gat stood up one end, firing at targets that had been spray painted on the bricks at the other end. In another corner out of the way, a circle had been painted on the flagstone, two Saints in the middle sparring. Huh. Not bad.

"Johnny!" I called out. He unloaded another round into the target, the noise bounding off the walls and magnifying – with firepower like that his aim would hardly matter. I cringed, Carlos and Peirce covering their ears.

"JOHNNY!" I shouted again. Finally he glanced over his shoulder and smiled a greeting, slinging his rifle onto his back. Quiet erupted into the courtyard.

"Hey boss," he said coolly, "Come to check out the new play area?"

I spared a look around and nodded approvingly. "Not bad," I agreed, "Listen, Peirce says he's got a plan for the Ronin, figured you'd want in,"

Johnny gave me a trademark half smile, "It ain't a war without me." He said. As we turned to head back in, I spared a look at Carlos. I wasn't sure why, but I didn't want him coming along on this one. When we'd met with Maero we'd been ambushed by cops; Carlos had fought well but still taken a bit of damage which I wasn't too happy about. That and the car ride over hadn't been too comfortable.

"Carlos, get a few of the boys and see what you can dig up on those guys back at the motel." I said quickly. Carlos gave a sharp nod, hurrying off. I felt my lips twitch into an affectionate smile as he left. Nice kid. I felt an elbow at my side.

"What guys?' Johnny asked.

"There's a hit on me," I said casually (it wasn't anything new) "But by who, I'm not sure. They were professionals though"

Beside me if felt Johnny bristle and heard his knuckles crack. "You stayin with me an Eesh?" he said. I couldn't tell if it was a question or not.

"Nuh-uh." I replied quickly. These guys managed to find me in the Red Light, I wasn't drawing attention to Aisha's place.

"Wasn't a question Boss," Johnny said darkly. I stopped walking and gave him a sharp and dangerous look; Peirce's eyes were flickering between us.

'_Not in front of my lieutenant, Gat,_' I thought, hoping I could convey that with the look. He might have been my closest friend, but I couldn't be taking that shit infront of my gang. Where buisness was concerned, he ultimately answered to me. He'd agreed to that.

For a moment I thought he actually _had_ read my mind, giving a discontented nod. After a beat we continued.

"Alright, show me what you got Peirce," I said, back to buisness.

"Okay," Peirce started up again, "You're gonna love this, I got it all worked out. Come see,"

We followed him into one of the smaller motel rooms - all the furniture had been pushed to the sides of the room to allow space for a huge diorama in the middle. I raised an eyebrow when I spotted the little dolls in it, each one made to look like one of us. Johnny picked his likeness up and studied it.

"Dungeons and Dragons, my favourite," I said with sarcasm, then gave a wry smile to Johnny, "Don't worry; you look good as a bobble head." Gat just lifted an eyebrow and tossed his doll back into the model. Peirce looked up at me, hurt.

"C'mon, don't be like that," he said, then waved a hand to the model, "_This_ is a _scale model_ of the casino. Now the place itself actually ain't big, and like I said the security is run by the Ronin. So here's the plan…"

I sat up on the edge of the table and watched with mild interest as Pierce began moving the little dolls around, explaining his idea that was almost as complicated as _Oceans Eleven_, and about as easy to follow. I glanced at Gat, whose arms were folded, clearly disinterested.

As Peirce launched into yet _another_ stage of the plan, Gat interrupted him.

"Look, I love the dream house you built and all," he started, picking up one of the little dolls that had been shaped and painted to look like me, "But why don't we just start from here, walk in, and _shoot_ all the muthafuckers between us and the money?"

I nodded. "It would be a lot faster," I agreed, "I mean this ain't exactly the _Bellagio_ we're talking about here."

"Yeah but-"

"It'd be a bigger fuck-you to the Ronin too," Johnny agreed.

"Aight. Let's do this." I said decidedly, getting to my feet before I lost inspiration, "You got ammo in that firing range of yours?" I asked Gat. He actually shook his head, to my surprise.

"Nope." But he gave me a reassuring smile at the look I gave him, "But there is in the armoury."

"The fuckin' _armoury_?" I said with a laugh as we started walking to the foyer, "Really nesting here, aren't you? Like Rambo got into home decorating," I teased him, but was pretty pleased. I glanced over my shoulder, "… Peirce! C'mon!"


	6. R: Easy Money

**29/10/12 - Added this chapter in... it's been posted in 'The Interview and other Oneshots'. This was one of those deleted scenes I wound up writing much further down the track (when ASR started getting out of hand and I was regretting killing of Aisha so soon). Enjoy :)**

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><p>The screen of another Black Jack pokie cracked and flashed as a bullet hit it followed by a splattering of blood, the music wailing and screeching as the machine short circuited. I crouched low and glared at the Ronin guards, trying to carefully pluck them off, but the exploding gaming machines and flashing neons left me feeling like I was about to have a seizure.<p>

"Can't believe you assholes are being so persistent," I chuckled lowly to myself.

'Tacky' was the first word that popped into my head when I saw Poseidon's. The place was smaller than I'd expected for one, and the half-assed decorations and lights screamed 'slot machines' rather than 'James Bond'. Still, bangers can't be choosers. Inside was no more impressive; lots of blue lighting, one huge water feature surrounded by a collection of pokies.

"How you comin' there?" I shouted to Johnny over the sound of gunfire and screaming. He only briefly held up a hand before getting back to the second bomb. Pierce was to my far right and guarding the first door we'd rigged, to my left another two Ronin guards clattered down the stairs; it was clear they hadn't been expecting me to be right behind them. I shot one, dead before he knew what was happening, then lunged forward and grabbed the other around the neck, dragging her in front of me and helping shield Gat. The shooting suddenly slowed when I did and it gave Johnny the breathing space he needed to finish setting the timer which after a few moments alerted us with a familiar trill.

"Move!" Gat shouted at me; I gave a single bullet to my shield's brain, about to run just as Johnny's arm suddenly grappled me around the waist and he tackled me to the ground behind a poker table, knocking the wind out of me when I hit the star-burst carpet. In that second a deafening crack shattered the air and the explosives went off; I barely had time to slam my eyes closed and cover my ears. When I looked up again the air was filled with smoke and debris.

"Shit Gat, did you play football in high school?" I grunted, as I propped myself up. He got me good around the ribs there…

"Nope. Coach I was too rough," he joked as he dusted himself off and got up to his feet, gun ready and plucking off the few who'd survived the explosion. I was reloading my SMG as Pierce rounded another corner of shattered pokies.

"The boys oughta be here soon with the truck," he said as he hurried over to us. I spared one last look around the casino; from what I could tell the three of us were the only people left breathing.

"Right. Get out the front and wait for them, keep an eye out for any more Ronin backup," I ordered flatly and he nodded, instantly jogging for the front. I glanced then to Johnny.

"Let's start baggin this cash."

* * *

><p>Two of Pierce's crew, Wheeler and some other guy… er… (I dunno. His name started with an 'A') took the truck. It was a cumbersome thing to handle but they seemed to be doing alright; me, Gat and Pierce were following in a Voxel Gat had boosted a few days ago. I drove; the boys were leaning out the windows and taking out the Ronin on our tails. When we heard the familiar wailing of police sirens I cringed with annoyance.<p>

"So they called the cops. Big surprise," Johnny said lowly, leaning out the window and letting off a few rounds from his SMG. I glared at the rear-view mirror, seeing not just the bright yellow bikes of the Ronin but also the black and white Five-Os of the SPD. And here I thought the advantage of robbing a gang casino was that the fuzz could stay out of it…

"We're gonna have to split with the truck-" Pierce said while he reloaded. I frowned; I wasn't sure about doing the draw-away so soon.

"You're sure your boys can handle it?" I asked, slowing the car slightly to drop behind the truck.

"Wheeler's the best driver I got," Pierce affirmed heatedly, "Him and his buddy are pretty slick, they can get themselves outta there when they need to."

The road began to turn and dip down into the Suburban district and narrowed my eyes again at the rear-view.

"Get the Ronin's attention. I want the gang on us, not the truck," I told Gat and Pierce who instantly leant out the window, aiming for the banana-bikers. Worst came to worst I'd rather Wheeler and his buddy arrested than hacked to bits with a Samurai sword. "…Alright then. Let's split."

The engine roared as I stomped on the clutch and swerved the car onto a new road; only one cop car followed, but all the Ronin seemed determined to catch us and make a name for themselves. I glanced worriedly to the truck which continued to thunder away down the straight.

* * *

><p>Officer Ramirez yanked at the gears of the car as he sped over the West bridge after the truck, his partner Anoop riding shotgun and casually lighting a cigarette. The two were so stereotypically different it was joked around the station they should probably have their own sitcom; Ramirez the ambitious and hot-headed one and Anoop… well, Anoop was a porn star on the side and showed up to work in Hawaiian shirts, maintaining it was at least more professional than Lt 'Freeball' Freeman's clothing choices were.<p>

It's a Stilwater thing.

"Those Saints can't keep runnin' forever," Ramirez hissed as they shot down onto the South Island, skirting past the Arena. Behind them a few more Five-O's struggled to keep up.

"Yo they better not," Anoop said, checking his gun then aiming out the window, "I gotta be onset at six. Did I tell you I might be gettin' myself a role in Bukakke Ninja?"

Anoop finished his sentence by firing a few bullets at the truck which violently swerved – there was a deafening BANG as one of the rear tires blew out and the truck jerked to the side of the road, skirting sharply around a Forgive and Forget and into a parking lot.

"Nice shot!" Ramirez declared, swerving the car around after them. The truck had barreled partially through a fence, and the two men in the front clambered out; Anoop tried to get off a few more shots at them but the young Saints scrambled, dashing across the lot then up over the rear fence, disappearing from sight. Ramirez pulled up at the entrance of the lot and was quick on the radio, not about to chase them down himself;

"Attention all units we have two suspects on foot in the Arena district, identified as male and wearing purple flags. Suspects to be considered armed and dangerous."

Anoop only raised an eyebrow at his partner before slipping out of the car.

"You don't wanna go after them?" he asked his partner lazily and Ramiez just gave a dark smile, rubbing his hands together.

"Nope. Let them handle the thugs, we got the truck."

"What about that car escorting it?" Anoop frowned, checking his gun and letting his gaze follow the sound of sirens and flashing lights.

"Saw it getting chased down by some Ronin," Ramirez said heatedly as he paced to the back of the truck, rubbing his hands together before gripping the handle of the back doors, "They'll take each other out. The important thing is, we got the-"

The officer suddenly fell silent as he swung the back doors of the truck open, swamped with confusion. His partner glanced over his shoulder inside the truck, blinking flatly.

"… It's empty."

"No shit Sherlock!" Ramirez snapped, kicking the back of the truck furiously, "God dammit! This bust was gonna make me captain!"

"Huh. Gotta wonder where the money _did_ go…" his partner frowned.

Ramirez faltered, mind racing. Slowly he closed his eyes, groaning, "The escort car… those _god damn thugs_…"

* * *

><p>"Can't believe those pigs fell for that two-cent trick," Johnny chuckled as he pulled a duffle of cash from the back seat. I hauled my own bag of money onto my shoulders as Pierce began piping up, slinging another black bag of cash onto his arm.<p>

"Yeah, you're welcome," he said pointedly, "Guess my plan wasn't so bad after all?"

"Bragging rights are limited Pierce," I warned as I sauntered up to the front door, pausing for Johnny to unlock it. Must get keys for this place…

Once inside I dragged the bag over to the lounge and dumped it down, slumping onto the sofa and propping my feet up on the bag. Hard to believe I was already tired; I guess I really did need to get into shape.

"Eesh! We're home!" Gat called out and I had to raise an eyebrow; he seemed a little… domesticated. It was weird. Aisha called something back down the stairs at him but I knew from habit it would be a few moments before she'd make her appearance. Johnny swept past towards the kitchen, dropping his half-open bag of money on the coffee table as he did. "Anyone want a-"

"Yep," I replied instantly, picking up the remote and clicking the TV on. A job like this would be high profile; we'd have to be on some news station… I yawned and shifted to be a little more comfortable. Pierce glanced at me; I must've looked ready to fall asleep.

"You know, we should be counting this-"

"We can count and drink, Pierce," I said flatly before tacking on, "…And watch TV. Multitasking."

Eventually Johnny returned with three cold brews in hand which he tossed in turn to me and Pierce. I twisted the cap and took a swig, watching the TV intently for any sign of us, even when I heard the sound of heels over the wooden floors behind me.

"Why is there a big pile of money on the coffee table?" Aisha asked by means of a greeting. Pierce cringed apologetically to her,

"It's a little complicated…"

"We shot up a Ronin casino and stole the cash," Johnny casually informed her. She shot him a sudden look.

"And you brought that shit here?" she asked disbelievingly.

Johnny twisted in his seat to look up at her with an expression as close to 'innocent' he could possibly muster, "Who else are we gonna trust with the money?"

"But the Ronin know you stole it right?"

Pierce snorted, "They wouldn't have if we would'a gone with my plan."

"Well if we went with your plan we'd till be talking about it," Gat needled dryly. Pierce waved a hand at him.

"Fuckoff Gat."

"Excuse me?"

"Shut up we're on!" I snapped at the both of them, quickly turning the volume up on the TV to drown out any more of their bitching. Channel Six had us on, and Jane Valderama stood out the front of Poseidon's, regally addressing the camera.

_"… The daring casino heist has left police baffled. Standing next to me is chief of police, Troy Bradshaw. Chief, how's the investigation going?"_

I felt my jaw drop the tiniest bit when the camera panned over to him. Troy. Full fucking uniform and looking… well, let's just say he'd looked better.

_"This is an investigation Miss Valderama, I can't get into details,"_ He said to her. I narrowed my eyes at t he TV, beside me I could feel Gat become tense.

_"What do you have to say about the involvement of the Third Street Saints?"_ Jane asked and Troy faltered.

_"I don't know what you're talking abou-"_

I blinked. Was he… was he trying to cover for us? Why the fuck… Jane had already cut him off, and the picture flashed instead to images from inside Poseidon's. Me, Johnny and Pierce were slinking across the screen, firing guns at off-screen targets.

_"This leaked footage shows the Leader of the Saints, recent fugitive and Saints Lieutenant Johnny Gat, as well as an unknown accomplice assaulting the Casino. Obviously the Third Street Saints are back after a long hiatus."_

"Alright!" Gat cheered suddenly and I laughed, a fist instinctively up and he bumped his knuckles against mine. Behind us I could hear Aisha groan something along the lines of 'oh god', but it was Pierce's yelp that drowned her out.

"Unknown accomplice my ass!" He said, waving helplessly at the TV where Jane was still harassing Troy. But I was satisfied enough; a quick flaunt on TV was all we needed to let the other gangs know Stilwater's real owners were back. I certainly hoped Maero at least was watching…

"Alright alright, we've had our fifteen minutes," I said, lifting my feet from the bag and leaning forward to unzip it, "We gotta clean this money."

"Do you even know how to launder money?" Pierce asked, tagging a long drink from his beer to wash away his annoyance. I shrugged.

"I survived a boat explosion, I think I can handle buying and reselling."

"I'm hoping you'll be buying yourself some new clothes with that cash?" Aisha asked with her eyebrows raised. I blinked at her flatly; beside me Johnny pretended to count bills but he was smirking to himself.

"I have clothes. I have your clothes."

"Bitch you been wearin' the same haggard ass jeans for three days and I'm not havin' you stretch out another one of my tops with those huge-ass tits of yours," she told me flatly and I cringed, glancing down at my bust. I'd... 'blossomed' a little during that coma, it seemed.

"…'Not that big…" I mumbled and Johnny and Pierce snorted in unison. Without realizing I folded my arms across my chest, but Aisha was giving me a warm and amused smile.

"Just sayin', when you're done with the guns and cars, it wouldn't hurt."

"Guess'so…" I mused. I'd let Aisha take me shopping in that case, it'd be a good opportunity to catch up with her. That and she possessed the 'style gene' that I sometimes thought had skipped me completely. That's one reason why I liked wearing my flags; easy to coordinate when you only wear black and purple.

I drew my focus back to more important things than clothes, "Still, most of my split's goin to make the hideout livable-"

Johnny suddenly and loudly cut me off, "Can't be surprised at that, after the shit that happened at the last motel you stayed at," he said in an inelegant re-direction. I scowled at him sharply but Aisha already turned on me.

"What happened?" She asked quickly, a worried frown over her pretty face. I waved my hand dismissively.

"It was nothing-"

"Two pro hitmen tried to take her out," Johnny readily informed her, "Shot up the whole room doin' it. Out on the streets again, huh?"

I shot Johnny a deathly glare but Aisha had already pounced.

"_What?_" She quickly responded, her attention snapping back to me.

"It's nothing Aisha," I pressed, "I got hits out on me all the time."

"So you're stayin' here then," she said flatly. Again, didn't sound like a question.

"No. I can get another room in the Red Light till the hideout is runnin' properly-"

"Ugh!" she cringed, "The only people who stay there are crack whores and whores on crack. I'll put your stuff in the second bedroom."

"Ai-" But she was already gone, picking up my satchel and dragging it up the stairs. With a short scowl I thumped Johnny sharply on the arm.

"Asshole."

"What did I do?" he said with a cocky grin that told me he knew exactly what he'd done. Not long after Aisha and I had met and her sister Tiana had left for Steelport, she sort of decided I was her new little sister (and occasionally, make-over project). This somehow gave her the right to occasionally boss me around. At first I put up with it to appease Johnny, but after a while, I had to admit I kinda liked it. I'd never had siblings to squabble with or hang out with and when Aisha stepped into the roll so willingly it was difficult not to fall in too. She has a strange way of controlling people. Johnny was one of the few aware of this and clearly exploited it.

"C'mon, you'd really stay in a flea-bag motel than here?" he pressed, continuing his point from earlier that morning. I pinched the bridge of my nose.

"It's not that it's just… those guys were pros," I tried to stress to him, "I don't want them coming here."

Johnny gave me a long look, "…You really think I'd ever let anything happen to her?"

I shook my head. It wasn't rally the point, but he was right. It'd be better staying with friends than a place that needed a plastic sheet over the bedspread. I sighed, "It doesn't matter. I don't seem to have a choice anyway… one night," I conceded, "Two at most."

I was well aware that Pierce was giving us curious looks, no doubt incredulous at the liberty Aisha had taken with me. I gave a wry smile at Johnny, "Damn. I'm as whipped as you are."

He thumped me on the arm. Hard. Probably harder than he realized and I gingerly rubbed my shoulder then shot him a sly smile.

"Worth it."


	7. R: A Story of More Woe

**Wow guys, thanks again for all the reviews! I've read and re-read this chapter a ton of times and I can only hope I've done it justice...**

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><p>"Peirce, have you ever heard the term, 'Don't fuck with people who handle your food?'" I asked, delicately raising an eyebrow and taking a sip of my Shiraz, watching a disgruntled waiter carry the rejected meal back to the kitchens. Peirce waved a hand.<p>

"Look, when I order a steak medium rare, I'm gonna get what I asked for. You wouldn't get this happening at the Sky Bar."

"I'm _just saying_. I was a waitress when I was fourteen, and saw an unusual amount of cock and bodily fluids in that industry." I replied lightly.

There was a beat of silence around the table; Shaundi gave me a sarcastic look, Carlos smiled at me with laughing eyes. Gat gave a short laugh, tipping ketchup over his steak.

"_Waitressing_ huh?" he said slyly, giving me a teasing grin, "Any other landmarks at fourteen?"

I narrowed my eyes, knowing he was digging on purpose. I'd made it clear several times before I didn't like talking about my past; hell, I still wasn't letting anyone know my name. As unwelcome as his digging was, his teasing over the small piece of information I'd accidentally let slip was even more annoying. I gave him a smile that didn't reach my eyes.

"Well, I got my first period." I said bluntly. Shaundi dropped her head to her hands and laughed, and Johnny abruptly set down the sauce bottle, looked down at his plate and pushed it away with a sigh.

"_Christ_ Boss, are you _trying_ to put everyone off their food?" Peirce snapped at me. I just shrugged and leant back into the leathery booth, munching on a few fries.

We were all crammed in to one large booth at '_Flames_', a relatively nice steakhouse. Gaining so much ground so quickly over the Ronin was cause for celebration; we'd made a lot of money from the casino heist, and now that almost all of it was laundered, we had a little to play with. The Ronin had retaliated of course, but we put them quickly to the ground. That little wimp Shogo was turning out to be no trouble.

So, enjoying the high of recent victories and the sudden cash flow, I'd decided to shout my loyal troops to a night out.

"Aisha couldn't make it tonight?" Shaundi asked Johnny, sounding disappointed. He frowned and shook his head.

"Nah. She's keeping her head down," he said, "someone must've snapped a photo of her when she was out shopping, made a comparison, put it on the net. A tabloid got a hold of it and started this conspiracy theory… yeah well. I told her no one would believe that shit but she's sayin better safe than sorry."

I nodded solemnly, looking up as the waiter came back with Peirce's meal, setting it down in front of him. Peirce quickly thanked him and waited for him to leave before inspecting his meal.

"Watch out for the gravy," I heard Carlos tease. We all gave a chuckle at his expense and he shot us a dark look. Shaundi lifted her glass and cleared her throat.

"Geez, seriously?" I added before she started. She just raised an eyebrow at me.

"Yeah Boss, seriously. A toast," she said, then cleared her throat again, "To new beginnings" she declared. Everyone lifted their relative glass or bottle, Gat and I rolling our eyes.

"To _power_," Pierce added with a grin.

"To family," Carlos offered, smiling broadly at us all. My eyes met Gat's and we shared an identical half-grin. Everyone silently agreed, and we clinked our glasses and bottles together, drinking deeply.

To family.

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><p>I cranked the music up and gave a contented sigh as the wind whipped through my hair. Gat was riding shotgun, hands folded behind his head, enjoying the drive back out to the suburbs as we cruised along, breaking speed limits and earning a few yells and honked horns from the drivers around us.<p>

For about a week after my hotel room had been shot up I'd crashed at Aisha's, and even though I'd since moved back to the hideout their place had become a second home, radiating safety and comfort. I smiled and thought back to the few nights when Johnny wasn't there; Eesh and I would sit up, split a few bottles of wine and watch Bobby and Amber. Sometimes Shaundi would drop by and we'd all share a joint, and for a while I would be transported back to the old days, before the explosion, back when things were simpler.

Gat had invited me to drop him home and share a nightcap with Eesh; being cooped up like she was, I could imagine she was getting bored and lonely, so I was more than happy to visit.

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><p>"Should we have brought anything back for her?" I asked as we made our way up the front path to the house.<p>

"Nah, she said she didn't want anything. Not big on red meat, y'know?" he said with a teasing laugh at his girl and we moved up to the front door.

Then Johnny held up a hand to stop me and I looked around him to see the door was ajar. I frowned; Johnny drew his gun and crept slowly towards the door and I mimicked him, taking mine from its holster on my thigh. A chill ran up my spine, an all too familiar sensation that had every nerve in my body screaming danger – this instinct had never lied to me before. Johnny carefully pushed the door open a little – I wanted to grab his arm and pull him back.

"Eesh, you home?" he called into the silent house. I thought I heard movement. Johnny glanced back at me and took a tentative step in. Suddenly Aisha's yell from inside broke the silence.

"_Johnny it's a tra-_"

There was a sudden thud and my blood ran cold.

"EESH!" Gat yelled out, charging in blindly. I ran after him and the ambush fell on us, the house erupting into gunfire. I had no time to take it in, I just started shooting. There were Ronin coming out of the walls – I ducked behind a door, behind furniture, taking my moment to open fire again, taking a TK from one of the dead and unloading it across the house, mowing down any Ronin that appeared. Their bodies hit the floor – hearing the singing and clashing of katanas I looked to Johnny who'd lost his gun and grabbed a sword from a fallen Ronin; He was in a one on one with the enforcer, Jonouchi or Jyunichi or _whatever_ his name was. There was blood on Jyunichi's his sword- I gritted my teeth.

"Gat get outta the way!" I shouted, aiming to get a shot and instantly regretting that I'd called out to him. He'd turned to look at me and I squeezed the trigger. My gun clicked dismally at me and in the split second when I could have taken that asshole out, that fraction of a moment Gat was looking away to me, that Ronin shit lunged forward, plunging his sword into Johnny's stomach, almost lifting him off the ground. Time seemed to slow to a stop; Gat's eyes bulged, stunned for a moment, before he seemed to regain his senses and looked up at Jyunichi with a snarl. He lifted his arms and slammed the heels of his hands sharply against Jyunichi's temples. The man stumbled back, stunned, and Gat dropped to the floor. I hit my pistol with the palm of my hand and it discharged the lodged bullet. I swung my aim back up and began firing at Juunnichi, who, seeing his backup lying dead on the floor ran for the door. I managed to crack him once in the shoulder and he stumbled forward and out the front. For a moment I almost ran after him, but I heard Gat groan, tying to get up, the sword still ran through him. I saw him grab the hilt.

"Gat _don't!_" I yelled, but it was too late; he'd ripped the sword out of his body, almost to his feet and stumbling after Jyunichi. Blood began pooling from the wound and he glanced down, seeing his mistake, his face going ashen. I ran towards him as he stumbled forward, catching his body as he fell and crumpling to the ground with him, laying him on the floorboards.

"Johnny!" I yelped, putting a hand to his face and trying to revive him. I pulled off my jacket and pressed the fabric down onto his wound to stem the bleeding – he convulsed and gave a groan through gritted teeth. I whipped out my cell and quickly pressed 911.

"…Where's Eesh?" he mumbled, his face frighteningly white and eyes unfocused. My hands shook and I glanced around, cell phone pressed to my ear waiting to be put through. I glanced to the living room, to the kitchen and then the dining room.

I swear I felt my heart stop when I saw her – the table legs obscured the sight a little, but not enough. She was tied to a chair that had fallen to the side, blood still running from where her neck had been cut open, the puddle growing and pooling around the flowers that had fallen to the floor. I swallowed bile; her head hadn't quite been cut off, a small strip of skin and muscle connecting it to her body. A voice on the phone snapped me out of my stupor.

"_911, what's your emergency?_"

"Ambulance," I said daftly, trying to get my mind straight. "Number six, Willow drive – wait, no," I said, thinking that side of the house would be too exposed, and take longer for the ambulance to get there. Jyunichi would be sending more Ronin… "Pick us up on the North End Road, you understand?" I said sharply stammering a little when Johnny grunted, turning his head to see what I was looking at. I quickly, almost violently pushed my hand to his face and forced him to look away from the dining room, feeling my throat go tight. I couldn't let him see her like that. He groaned again, mumbling something about saving her.

"_Paramedics are on their way_-"

I clicked off the phone and stuck it back in my pocket, wrapping my hoodie more firmly around his middle and grabbing Gat from behind the shoulders, trying to lift him. Dammit, why did he have to bulk up so damn much? He made a pained noise, which faded, his body going limp.

"Johnny!" I snapped, "You stay awake! If you fucking die on me I'll _goddamn kill you!_" my voice was higher than normal, and I grunted, half carrying, half dragging him out of the house.

"I ain't goinnowhere Eesh, I'll keepyousafe…" he mumbled and I felt a sob choke out of my throat as I dragged him out the back of the house. I leant him up against the wall at the back of the house, crouched over him, shaking and reloading my gun. The roar of motorbike engines echoed around the streets as the Ronin backup came. As soon as I saw them, with their fucking bikes and stupid fucking jackets, I felt my body shake with fury. I fired and reloaded and fired and reloaded, taking them out and protecting Johnny. In that moment I could have killed them all, I'd have murdered every last one of those fucking Ronin and relished their blood on my hands. As another wave of those cocksuckers arrived I swore – _where was that fucking ambulance_? I whipped out my phone and mashed the first speed-dial number my thumb fell on.

Peirce answered.

"Gat's in trouble get here _now_," I snapped down the line.

"_Where are you guys?_" he asked quickly. My voice shook and I realised I was dangerously close to hysteria.

"Fucking Aisha's house! _Move your ass_!" I yelled down the line, snarling and shooting a Ronin in the head and feeling a good deal of satisfaction when I saw his brain explode out the back of his skull. Gat mumbled something behind me.

"Stay with me Johnny," I begged, my voice suddenly weak. I was trying not to let myself think of Aisha, of her body lying there in that house, soaking in her own blood. I wasn't doing too good a job of it.

There was a roar of an engine, not belonging to a motorbike, and I allowed a moment of relief and hope to wash over me when I saw Peirce come flying around the corner in his convertible, sliding up next to us. I looped Johnny's arm over my shoulder and struggled to my feet, half dragging him to the car and getting him in the back seat, grateful to see the rifle on the floor. I jumped in next to Gat and cocked the rifle, unloading a round onto a few Ronin bikers as they screamed around the corner. I grabbed another clip and reloaded as Peirce tore away to the hospital. Leaning over Gat I pressed a hand over his cold forehead, the wind whipping my hair out as we sped along.

"Johnny?" I said, his name catching a little in my throat. His eyes slowly opened and rolled to look at me, "We're gonna take care of you," I said, as much to reassure myself as him.

"Gotta save Eesh," he murmured quietly, lifting a weak hand to touch mine. I couldn't say anything, but found myself giving him a nod.

* * *

><p>A day later and I was standing outside Gat's room in the hospital. Bribes and threats of death and small scale terrorism had done wonders to keep the staff silent about Gat being there – if any cops did find out about it I had the crew set up some stuff back at the hideout in case I had to get him out of there. But that was a last resort.<p>

The doctor emerged from the room, looking at me nervously and hands shaking. I didn't blame him for being scared – I was in a real shoot-the-messenger mood and not up for bad news.

"Your friend has uhm," I narrowed my eyes and took a few threatening steps towards him, warping my fear into anger. I'd just lost Aisha, I couldn't loose Gat too. He saw the look on my face and quickly stammered, "H-he made it through the surgery,"

I slowed my advance and allowed myself to breath. The doctor pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"Can I see him?" I asked quietly.

"He's not actually awake yet," the doctor stammered. I glared at him.

"Did I ask you if he was _fucking_ awake?" I snarled. He quickly shook his head.

"No, no, you can go and see him, whatever you like!" He said, holding up his hands and stepping out of my way. I shoved past him and into the room, feeling my throat go tight when I saw him. His torso was bandaged, tubes running out of his arms and an oxygen mask over his mouth.

"Christ Johnny," I murmured. I heard someone clear their throat – a nurse in a stupidly patterned scrub top was standing quietly in the corner holding a clipboard to her chest. I narrowed my eyes at her, "Who the fuck are you?"

She flinched at my tone, "I- I'm Nikki, I'm Mr Gat's nurse-"

I felt my lips purse and my eyes flickered to the clip board she was holding. "That his?" I asked coldly. She nodded quickly and held it out to me. I snatched it away seeing nothing but medical ramblings and numbers along a graph. I shook my head, "What's it saying?"

"It's an anaesthetic record from the surgery." She said quickly, somehow much more calm than the doctor was. Or maybe she was just used to dealing with people who were scared for their friends. I studied the graph, staring at the numbers and glaring when I saw something that looked… abnormal.

"This," I said, marching to her and pointing at a dip in the lines and numbers, "What's this? Why's it different?"

Her eyelids fluttered as she looked to the paper, "Um… That was when… look, he wasn't very stable when he went under, and had lost a lot of blood. He went into cardiac arrest; we had to resuscitate him, that's what those numbers are."

She looked up to me sheepishly. I felt my mouth drop open and looked at Johnny. Christ… had it really been that _close_? I moved to stand next to his bed, without thinking, resting my fingertips on the back of his hand.

"He's in critical condition but stable," Nikki spoke up a littler more bravely; "We just can't be sure _when_ he's going to wake up from the anaesthetic. He's a fighter though."

I closed my eyes, trying to will away a headache that was creeping in around my temples. I heard Nurse Nikki quietly leave the room, her sneakers squeaking over the linoleum. After a beat, I sat on the edge of his bed, curling my fingers around his cold hand. The room was silent except for the soft beeping of the heart monitor. I hated the sound of that monitor.

BlipBlipBlipBlip.

"Gat," I started, drawing a shuddering breath, "You gotta wake up Gat. We need you,"

A wave of déjà vu washed over me. It was like remembering a conversation I'd never had with him. I remembered how he'd told me he'd seen _me_ just like this, wrapped in bandages, unconscious. That it had been so _wrong_. I leant forward a little to look at his face – he looked odd without his glasses on. Stripped.

I don't know how long I sat there with him. I was thinking about Aisha, the sight of her corpse burned into my mind – if I had managed to save Johnny from that image I was thankful. That ambulance that finally showed up had found her and collected her. She was laying down several storeys below us in the morgue and…

A pain ripped through my chest; _Eesh_. It didn't seem real. I couldn't picture ever going into that house and _not_ seeing her, not sitting up in the kitchen with her when I couldn't sleep…

I swallowed a lump in my throat. I'd never thought I was really that close to her, but now that she was gone… I shook my head. As hard as this was on me, it'd be so, so much worse for Johnny. I forced myself to remember that.

'_Pull it together' _I thought._ 'For Johnny'_.

I jolted as my phone rang. I checked the caller ID – Peirce.

"What?" I growled, putting the phone to my ear.

"_Boss, I just got word that Akuji's coming in to town, apparently he's done with all Shogo's fuckups."_

I nodded, "And?"

"_You'll like this – he gets in tonight. We get down to the airport we can get him when he gets off the plane. He's bought up every seat in first class though, so I'm guessin he's travelling with friends."_

"Right. Get some of the crew together. We're taking that asshole out." I pulled the phone away and was about to hang up before I heard Peirce was still talking. I put the phone back to my ear.

"What?"

"_Uh? I was askin how Johnny was doin… he awake yet?"_

"No." There was a moment of silence. "Good job with Akuji Peirce," I said, hanging up on him. I looked to Johnny and squeezed his hand again.

"We'll get them" I said quietly. I stood and strode from the room before I was drawn into lingering longer. Nikki was waiting quietly outside – I looked at her sharply.

"Stay with him." I said to her, "You hear me? You do _not_ leave his side till I get back. If there's any change, you call me."

I snatched a pen from her top pocket and yanked her arm, scrawling my cell number on it. She flinched nervously.

"Uhm, are you sure you wouldn't want Dr Me-"

"If I wanted to hear from the god damn doctor, would I be asking you?" I growled. She blinked at me. "That guy's a fucking muppet. _You_ call _me_. Understand?" I breathed out to calm myself, "Don't worry, there'll be something in it for you."

With that I turned on my heel and continued down the hall, listening to Nurse Nikki scuttle back into Gat's room.

Akuji. Jyunichi. Shogo. _I'm coming for you_.

* * *

><p><strong>Hope i did ok. Next chapter up soon!<strong>


	8. R:  and Two to Go

**I gotta say, this is one of my fav chapters. Not sure why. Hope you guys like it as much as!**

* * *

><p>I pressed the heel of my hand against my forehead, frowning and watching the bartender pour me another shot, the clear liquid spilling a little.<p>

"Just leave the bottle," I said darkly, delicately picking up the glass and tipping it down my throat. It was decent, didn't burn too much, a smooth aftertaste filling my sinuses. I gave a small contented sigh. There were some things only a shot of buffalo grass vodka could fix.

"In that mood Boss?" I heard Peirce say. I glanced sideways at him, picked up the bottle and poured him a shot, then filled up my own glass.

"What, and you're not?" I said bitterly. We nearly had Akuji – he was in the palm of our fucking hands. And he'd slipped through our fingers. Someone must've spotted us at the airport and tipped him off, because apparently, he never got off the plane and been snuck away.

"Don't worry, we'll get another chance, I'll make sure of it, we'll get him together." Peirce said, but his tone sounded weird. Commanding. I didn't like it.

"Don't do that." I said quietly, tipping another shot down my throat and refilling the glass. Peirce did the same, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

"Do what?"

"_Talk_ like that. Like you're the one who's in fuckin charge. Saying 'we'." I snapped, thinking I maybe should have had some food before I started drinking. My fuse was short with Peirce ever since the comment about getting a promotion the moment he found out Johnny was in critical. What's worse, he wasn't letting up.

"All I'm sayin is, we don't know how long Gat's gonna be laid out." He said, trying to sound pragmatic. I glared at him, refilling my shot glass.

"And you're willing to make a noble sacrifice and take his place?"

He shrugged in response, "Someone's gotta step up,"

"Gat'll be up and running in no time." I said sharply, just about fed up with him.

"And if he's not?" Peirce persisted. I sighed and sipped at my vodka.

"Then we got bigger problems."

My phone buzzed and I quickly checked the caller ID – no number. I answered it quickly, hoping to hear from that nurse. But it wasn't Nikki's voice that answered me.

"_How badly do you want the man who hurt Johnny Gat?"_

My curiosity piqued. "Who is this?"

"_Jyunichi will be at Kanto tonight… this is our chance for revenge."_

"_Our_ chance? Who the fuck are you?" I growled, feeling the alcohol kicking in. I was answered only by a dial tone. I clicked my phone off and stuck it in my back pocket, starting for the door. Peirce got up to follow.

"Where you goin?" he asked.

I stopped and looked over my shoulder darkly to let him know he was not invited. _That he wasn't my right-hand man_. Peirce stopped following me. "I'm taking out that sonofa bitch that killed Aisha." I growled, my voice barely sounding like my own.

* * *

><p>Kanto was eerily peaceful when I got there. I'd never liked the look of the place; it was a cheap, tacky rip off of a Japanese building and made bad sushi, but because of its position and patronage had become a booming business.<p>

It was eerily pretty in the moonlight though. The lanterns were lit, but the lot was empty, save a few Ronin bikes. I felt a sinister smile curl over my mouth. With any luck, that cocksucker Akuji, or maybe his son would be there too.

I cocked my gun and walked up the pebbled pathway, up the wooden stairs, and kicked the door open to the restaurant. Two Ronin guards gave me a startled look and drew their swords. Word to the wise, guns might be loud but they sure as shit are faster. I sneered and put a bullet in each of them, striding through the foyer and finding myself at the top of the stairs, looking down into the restaurant. Jyunichi and his cohorts were already standing, swords drawn and alarm across their faces. I quickly raised my gun when I saw Jyunichi's face, the vision of Aisha's mutilated body crashing through my head. But as I squeezed the trigger, a Ronin crashed into me from behind, trying to grab my gun – it fired and shot a hole into the ceiling. I rammed my elbow back, breaking the nose of my assailant, who yelped and pushed forward; I gasped as my foot twisted over the top step and we both tumbled forward. I grunted as I jolted down the stairs, the both of us sprawling on the tatami, my head still swimming from the vodka. Shit, my gun was gone – I saw it a few paces away and quickly reached out for it, but one of the Ronin flicked it away with the tip of their katana.

Fuck. Charging in here with a drink on was probably not the best plan I'd ever had. I glanced across the tatami, seeing the Ronin scum walking up to me; till Jyunichi shouted something at them in Japanese. The all stopped, and stepped back. I blinked to get my head straight and look up to see his deadpan expression. I glared at him, a seething hatred boiling in my veins as I pushed myself up to my feet, looking at him levelly.

"You are here to avenge your friend," Jyunichi said quietly.

"How _fucking_ observant." I said sarcastically. Jyunichi drew a sword from his back and tossed it to me. It clattered at my feet and I looked down to it, an eyebrow raised. I lowered myself to pick up the sword, never taking my eyes off of Jyunichi as he spoke to me.

"I have travelled on that path before," he said, his words clipped by his accent and sounding like something from an old kung-fu movie, "You deserve your vengeance. And I deserve to die. But then, _so do you_." He drew the second sword from its sheath on his back, "I am bound by honour and duty to kill you."

For the briefest moment my glare faltered and I understood why some people would bow to their enemies before they duelled. But the respect didn't mute my desire to stick the sword straight through him. I gripped the hilt, feeling the weight amd grateful I'd been working out more. All the training and practise I'd had in melee was almost totally hand-to-hand. I'd swung around my fair share of pipes and baseball bats but this guy… I'm pretty certain he was professionally trained in this. I felt my lips purse and my feet move back to a fighter's stance and snarled at him.

"Did Tarentino write that for you?" I bitched.

And he swung at me. I moved the blade quickly to block him and ducked out of the way; he was big, but like most big guys I went up against, slow compared to me. I jumped forward and swung at him, but he deflected it, pushing me back and advancing with a counter – I tried to duck but he still managed to open a cut on my shoulder – I winced at the stinging pain. He swung at me again and I blocked it, using the moment to land a heavy kick in his stomach. He grunted and stumbled back, and I jumped forward, lunging with my sword. He tried to dodge but I felt the blade rip through his jacket; beneath I could see the fabric of bandages fraying with blood, and remembered the one shot I'd gotten in on him back at Aisha's. At least I know his weak spot now. He fell back a little, and before I knew it his handful of Ronin Guards was on me, carefully dancing around, waiting for someone else to attack first. Then one by one they moved in.

The thing about these Ronin punks – you put a sword in their hands and they think they're some sort of Samurai warrior. But they weren't; they swung those swords like baseball bats, no concept of how to work one, clearly no training. I'd dodged baseball bats before and taken the people wielding them out with no more than my fists and these pussys weren't any different. I sliced them to bits, feeling a sick satisfaction when their blood sprayed over the cream-coloured tatami, the paper screens, and spattering over my own pale skin. It was beautiful.

Jyunichi had regained himself when he saw his backup slain on the floor. I was a little breathless from my fight, but still ready to go; he lunged at me again, the sound of the swords echoing around the silent restaurant as I deflected blow after blow, quickly on the back foot. I'd duck and swerve, unaware my movements were becoming predictable – as I tried to dodge another time he flicked the blade out, slicing open a gash deep in my thigh. I felt a pained cry from my throat, more from surprise, and dropped to my knees. My hands shook, and I saw him advancing upon me. I reached for my sword but he knocked it further away, slamming the blade down on the tatami to deter me from grasping the hilt. I dragged myself back a little, mind racing as I thought of ways to get out of this. My gun was on the other side of the room, if I reached for the sword again he'd probably cut my hand off. _'You have to beat him, you _have_ to do this. This cocksucker killed Aisha!'_ It was glaring down at my injured leg that gave me the idea.

"_Sayonarah,"_ Jyunichi said quietly, raising his katana. I blinked, watching the bloodied blade glinting in the light, drawing out his victory and relishing it far too long – big mistake. As he attempted to finally bring his arms down I ducked forward, grabbing the trusty flip knife from my boot, pushing up and ramming it into his gut. He fell back with a sort of surprise, dropping his sword. I lunged for it, grasping the hilt and swinging it blindly at his arm as he reached out to me, chopping deeply into it, the blade actually sticking in the bone when it hit. Jyunichi screamed, and I relished it. Then he was fully laid out on the floor and I was on top of him, straddling his chest, sword forgotten, punching him blindly in the face as my fury finally took control of every cell in my body.

"SHE WAS FUCKING INNOCENT!" I heard myself screaming at him, smashing my fists into his face over and over again. He spat blood and coughed, and I finally slowed, pulling back to observe my handiwork. He was a mess of blood and broken teeth… but still alive, clearly. His eyes rolled to look at me, cold and steely. I reached next to me and yanked the Katana from his arm, wrapping my hands around the hilt and raised it up, the point hanging just above his eyes. He saw it, and gave a small, curdling noise.

"Sayo-nara bitch." I whispered, plunging the blade into his face.

* * *

><p>I stepped out of Kanto, breathing in deeply and feeling my shoulders relax. My clothes and skin were covered with blood spatter and cuts, but I didn't care.<p>

I looked up to the sky, watching the clouds begin to hint at sunrise, only slightly aware of the nervous looks a couple were giving me as they skirted around the bloodied madwoman.

"I made him pay, Eesh." I said quietly. That little bit of revenge sated me for now. But I knew it was far from over; Jyunichi was an enforcer, a soldier. He'd been the one to pull the trigger (so to speak), but it was that little shit Shogo who'd given the order. I turned and looked back at the restaurant. There would be no mercy for the Ronin. This wasn't going to be a matter of just taking their turf and business. Usually the leaders were given an opportunity to walk away like Ben King; not that any of them would, but there was always the option. Not this time. There would be no mercy, no second chances… and if they ran, I'd hunt them.

My phone buzzed. I checked the caller ID but it was an unknown number, different from before – I frowned and clicked answer.

"_Hello? It's Nikki from the hospit-"_

"What's happened?" I said quickly.

"_Mr Gat has just woken up-"_

"Thanks. Let him know I'll be there soon," I said, hanging up, stepping out onto the road making a car skid to a stop in front of me. I ran to the driver's door, the guy inside yelling at me, "What are – Oh god, _you_ again?"

SMACK. I knocked his head into the steering wheel and pulled him out of the car, slipping into the driver's seat.

"You don't have to keep trying to knock me out," he grumbled at me, rubbing his head as I sped off.

Huh. What were the chances, right?

* * *

><p>As I stepped into Gat's room, Nikki stepped out to meet me. She opened her mouth to speak but stopped when she took in my appearance, coughing nervously. I just grabbed her hand and pressed a money clip into it. I saw her cringe at it at first – it was smeared with blood, like everything else on me.<p>

"Thanks," I muttered, "If you could get me some bandages or stuff to stitch up with that'd be good," I added as an afterthought, pushing past her as she flicked through the notes in the clip. I heard her gasp from behind me, jogging off down the hall. Quietly, reverently, I approached the bed, leaning against the end. The drip line and mask had been taken off him but I noticed buckle restraints over his arms. I felt my mouth twitch, wanting to smile. _'Caused some trouble, did you?'_

His eyes were closed, but slowly opened when I stepped closer and started undoing the restraints. We didn't say anything for a while. He just kept his eyes on me as I leant over to undo the buckles on the other side.

"… It really happened, didn't it?" he finally voiced. I eased myself down onto the side of his bed.

"… Yeah. It did." I said quietly, forcing myself to look into his eyes. He blinked a few times, his usually still features tensing, then contorting with pain which I knew had nothing to do with the stab wound. He turned his head away and drew one deep, shuddering breath. I felt a lump in my throat, his pain tapping into my own.

Silence hung in the air. I didn't want to talk, but I knew I had to exert myself. For him.

"… Jyunichi is dead." I said finally. Johnny finally turned to look at me, his jaw clenched. "I was going to leave him for you but… I had an opportunity to stab him in the face and took it."

"That'd explain why you got so dressed up to visit me… I'dve done the same for you," he said in a feeble attempt at humour and indicating to my chainsaw-massacre appearance. I appeased him by putting my hand over his.

"…Funeral?" he asked, his voice and expression steely. I nodded a little – the preparations were made, I'd made sure of it.

"We're waiting for you," I said quietly, finishing my train of thought aloud. Johnny stayed quiet and I watched the subtle changes in his face as he locked himself down, burying whatever pain he was feeling, or things he was thinking; his jaw relaxed a little and his eyes went cold.

'_Alright then_' I thought, '_For now we're just back to business_.'

I reached to the bedside table where his glasses sat, then carefully polished them on the cleanest patch of my shirt, handing them to him, "How long till you're back?" I asked, inelegantly changing the subject. Johnny shrugged, slipping the glasses over his eyes.

"Doc said I should be up and murderin' in a few days. Well, y'know, he didn't say _murderin'_ but you get the idea."

"Good." I said with a nod and a small single laugh, "…We got most of the north island under wraps, but with Akuji in town-"

"What, he's here?" Gat said, temper flaring and he tried to sit up. I quickly moved my hand to his shoulder to stop him moving too much. His eyes were piercing mine.

"We tried hitting him when he was on the plane but someone tipped him off," I shrugged, "So, we're going to track him down here and rip him and his whole goddamn family apart." I finished to appease him. Johnny nodded, a dark smile in his eyes that told me he liked the plan.

"Great." He said, nodding, "So when the fuck can I get outta here?"

As if on cue the lights went out, red emergency lights flashing on and an alarm sounded. In the distance, I heard gunshots under the whirring of the backup generator kicking in. Sounded like the Ronin had arrived.

"Now, apparently," I said nonchalantly. Gat grunted and sat up.

"Fuck yeah."

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and went to stand – suddenly his face went ashen and pupils dilated; he stumbled and I stepped forward, grabbing him by the arm.

"A few days, right?" I reminded him, "C'mon. Get on the gurney."

He gave me a dark look and I gave a taught half-smile back at him, far from threatened.

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><p><strong>Could anyone tell I'd been watching a bit of Kill Bill?<strong>


	9. R: Where you Lay your Head

_Clumsily I began to swim for the shore, dragging myself up onto the concrete and laying still, shivering. My eyes trailed down to the inky black water, a few bubbles still simmering to the surface where the car lay submerged._

_"Lin…" I breathed out, barely able to form the word. The bubbles grew. They popped on the surface, turning red, and she slowly stepped up onto the banks, blood pouring from her gunshot wound, eyes rolling in her head. Then a gash started appearing across her neck, it grew, blood pouring from it, till finally her head fell off and toppled into the water, her body collapsing and following it._

I drew a sudden short breath as I woke up, shivering, and my throat tight. _No. Don't give in to it_. I shook my head and sat up on the sofa, glancing about the room, recognizing the peeling wallpaper. My 'office'. The hideout.

I glimpsed down at myself seeing the bandages around my thigh and gingerly touched the one on my shoulder. Those might need changing soon… I groaned, forcing myself up and glancing at the clock. It was still only midnight, so four hours would have to do for today.

I pushed myself to my feet, creeping up the hallway a little and glancing into the darkness of my room – Johnny was still lying in bed asleep, his chest slowly rising and falling. Still, he looked tense, his face caught in a permanent wince and now and then a small tremble would rattle over his skin. Dammit. Whatever that pain medication Nikki gave us, it wasn't enough.

The trip back from the hospital had been rough on him; getting out of a hospital full of Ronin shit kickers trying to make a name and a quick buck by taking us out was bad enough, then he had to put up with my shitty piloting when he worked out the only way out of that place was by helicopter. I'd learnt by necessity a few years ago how to fly one, but it's not exactly like riding a bike. But he'd had a two day's rest so far, and whenever he was awake he was complaining loudly about being bed ridden and would try to escape then I'd have to threaten to handcuff him to the bed.

I turned and started down the stairs to the foyer; more than a few Saints on the DL were still up (midnight was relatively early for my kind), so I moved and settled myself onto a sofa. One of the Saints, a short, pretty girl stopped by, frowning at my tired look and put a sassy hand on her hip. She had fluffy dark blond hair in an overgrown bob, and a pink crowbar hanging from her belt.

"Anything I can get you boss?" she asked. I paused before answering.

"Red?" I said quietly, already feeling the detrimental effects of insomnia. A good merlot would go down a treat right now. The Saint; _Dice, was it?_ sauntered off towards the bar. I glanced after her. The Pocket Rocket, Dice, was tiny by most standards, but had a swelling reputation for unleashing hell on anyone who stepped on her or her friends. I smiled at her as she shoved a guy behind the bar – he must have been three times her mass – and hunted out a bottle of wine pouring a generous amount into a cheap wine glass and bringing it back over. I nodded a silent thanks to her and I made a mental note to keep an eye on that one – she had potential.

I sipped it, staring at the table, feeling bags growing over my eyes. Christ… could I ever go one night without screaming myself awake? Okay, exaggeration, but still… I was frustrated knowing it would be at least another sixteen hours at least before I got any decent rest. I sat there for an hour or so, not tired enough to sleep and not awake enough to actually do anything but call for a refill whenever my glass was empty. A few Saints wandered off to find places to crash. A clatter at the top of the stairs caught my attention, and a familiar figure appeared, joined by a few laughing Saints.

Carlos.

He had a little blood over his white tank, strutting down the stairs, chatting with his friends till he saw me. He paused, the cocky face fading, being replaced by an open smile.

"Hey Boss," he said, trotting down the stairs towards me. I raised a glass in reply. He frowned gently and opened his mouth to speak, but I beat him to it.

"What hell have you been raising?" I asked, indicating to his clothes and friends (who, a little to my surprise, were fast retreating to the courtyard out of the foyer). Carlos smiled broadly at me.

"Just got back from celebrating a little victory," he said with a modest shrug, his accent just a touch thicker indicating he'd had a few beers in him, "We got one of the Brotherhood's streets on our side; a protection racket. They pay us instead of the Brotherhood for protection, the only difference being that we don't rob them every other month," he said, "Winning the hearts and minds, y'know."

I raised an eyebrow approvingly. "Not bad," I consented. Carlos smiled and nodded.

"Hey, you gave me the idea. Back when the Saints ran the Row, I remember that no one was allowed to hurt the people who lived there, or rob the stores there," He said enthusiastically, "It got me thinking, you get the people on your side, they won't complain to the cops so easy."

I tilted my head and smiled. He was doing well.

He glanced around. "What uh… why you up so late?" he was clearly more concerned about how I looked rather than what time it was.

I shrugged. "I don't really sleep Carlos."

"…Can't sleep?"

I gave him a look that I hoped was threatening, but he just smiled at me with an idea.

"Hold up Boss," he said, quickly disappearing down a hall to what I guessed was one of the ruined hotel rooms he'd adopted.

I sipped on my wine… a while later he returned. With an acoustic fucking guitar. I rolled my eyes. "If you sing any goddamn _koom-bay-ah_ shit I'll stab you," I grouched with fatigue. Carlos just raised an eyebrow at me.

"Easy Boss," He said, strumming fingertips over the strings, "This'll help. Just give it a sec."

And his fingers began plucking. I rolled my eyes at first, but the melody… infected me. I felt myself slowing, listening to the low, sweet sorrow of the latin…esque tune.

"It's an old family song," Carlos mentioned quietly, "My brother played it when I couldn't sleep, and he said my father played it to him when he was a baby."

I felt my brow knot a little.

"Since when could you play?"

Carlos shrugged. "Since my brother taught me."

"This song got a name?" I continued.

"Not that I know of."

I watched him, feeling the gentle plucking of the guitar strings soothe me, feeling comfort, peace wash over me. Ah, Carlos; he'd fought alongside me before, he'd shot and killed, but somehow, when he wasn't in a skirmish he didn't seem like he had. Was it just that he was following in his brother's footsteps? Had his brother been a cardiologist, would he have become a doctor too? The way he spoke about gaining that Brotherhood protection racket, he said it like… like it was a heroic move. He'd somehow made extortion valiant.

I watched him, sweet features peaceful as he plucked away the melody. He smiled up at me and instinctively I smiled back, a little surprised at myself when I did – I smiled very easily around him. For a while I'd forgotten how many years had passed and felt like I was nineteen again. We didn't really talk much, eventually my mind began to wander, and my eyelids got heavy.

* * *

><p>I yawned a little later at the soft whispering of voices; a few Saints were there in the hideout, reverently quiet, but still making enough noise to wake me up. I turned, my foot hitting something hard and knocking it over. There was a loud tang, and it jolted me from my sleep. I sat up, a thin blanket sliding off my shoulders as I looked around for the source of the noise. A guitar was leaning against the worn coffee table; I felt a small wince tug at my lips when I realized I must've knocked it over.<p>

I sat up, groggy, reaching out and wrapping my fingers around the neck of the guitar, pulling it up into my lap to inspect it; if I had damaged it I couldn't tell, I knew nothing of guitars. Or any instrument for that matter. With a sigh I placed it reverently on the sofa, peering around for a clock – nine thirty. I stood up and stretched, heading upstairs to check on Gat.

Once I rounded the corner into my room I growled; he was up and pulling on his purple silk shirt over his bandages, grey pinstripe slacks already on. I scowled and put my hands on my hips and he froze, looking at me like a deer in the spotlights.

"…Mornin'," He greeted. I raised an eyebrow and took a few steps into the room.

"Johnny, we've talked about this-"

"Uh uh. You talked," he said, straightening his shirt and getting a pistol from the dresser, checking to see it was loaded, "I can't be lyin' around in that bed anymore, I'm goin' crazy."

I pinched the bridge of my nose, "I get that Johnny, but I need you healthy. You start running around pulling shit now you're gonna end up doing more damage. You need _rest_-"

"I _need_ to fuckin' _kill_ something," he corrected darkly, taking a few quick steps towards me and waving the gun a little too carelessly for comfort, "I've been lyin' in that bed for… I don't even know how long. All it is, I fuckin' wakeup, go back to sleep, over and over and every time I do, I turn over and expect her to be there-" he stopped abruptly and we both went silent; I'd been looking intently at his face but my eyes involuntarily flickered away. He jammed the gun into his back pocket, getting his tone back under control, "And while I'm layin' there, the assholes responsible are still walkin' around free."

I stuck one hand into my back pocket and ran another through my hair. I could stop him if I wanted. I could probably knock him out or drug him or something. Then I felt my head shaking – anyone else and I probably would have, but with Gat it just wasn't right.

"…The least you could do it take a damn shower and get your bandages changed," I said with a little exasperation, "Cos if you're going to be going off causing havoc I'm gonna have to go along with you, and hell if I'm riding shotgun to _that_."

He seemed appeased, nodding then carefully brushing past me and out of the room. I frowned as I watched him go; he was hunched a little over his wound, tense. Johnny was good at hiding pain but the way he moved now had me worried. I shook my head gently and moved to straighten out the bed sheets, but I stopped when I finally noticed it, the pill bottle sitting up on the bedside table. I quickly picked it up, eyes scanning over the label even though I knew it was the pain medication.

The bottle was full, unopened. For nearly three days now he'd purposely _not_ been taking them. The thought of him intentionally doing that to himself made my stomach twist.

"You… _stupid fuck_," I growled, jamming the bottle into my pocket.

* * *

><p>An hour later and I had Johnny sitting up on the bar later, carefully cleaning then redressing his wounds, one to the front, one to the back. They were thick and bruised and much, much longer than I had expected; I realised the surgeons must have had to widen the incisions to fix up whatever was damaged on the inside. The bruises around his sides were turning multicoloured and I couldn't tell if it was infection or not – Gat didn't seem sick, so I figured he was still ok. It'd be at least another week till the stitches could come out.<p>

"Arms up," I instructed and he dutifully lifted them so I could start wrapping his torso with new bandages. I was still angry with him and he knew it, even if he was unaware what specifically for. He was thankfully not doing anything he thought might antagonise me further. I tightly fastened the bandage on Johnny's waist – he flinched slightly when I did but that was all, hiding his cringe by taking a long drink from his beer. I felt my lips purse then finally reached into my pocket, drawing out the bottle of pills and wordlessly spilt two into the palm of my hand. He didn't say anything but he certainly tensed when he realized he'd been caught out.

I held the pills out to him and gave him a flat look. He frowned at them.

"I'm fine, I don't need them," he said, going to take another drink but I suddenly reached the end of my tether, ripping the bottle out of his hands and thrusting the pills at him.

"I'm not fucking around Johnny," I said lowly, "Being up out of bed is one thing, not taking your pain meds is another. Now stop being such a fucking child."

He glared at me, but only for a moment. I wasn't really angry with him, we both knew that. But I was worried, and I tended to snap at people I was worried about. Finally he plucked the two pills out of my hand and popped them into his mouth, snatching the beer back and taking a deep swig to wash them down. I watched him hawkishly as he set the bottle down with a heavy thud.

"Happy?" he said sharply.

"I'd be happier if you'd keep taking them," I said, reigning my temper back in. I could guess _why_ he didn't want ot take them. Guilt maybe. Ego. Or in some cases, physical pain might have been easier to bear than whatever was happening inside him. Regardless, I pressed the bottle into his hand, "I told you. We need you strong."

He glared hatefully at the pills, thumb brushing over the label. He was about to say something to me, before our attention was caught by a sudden and unfamiliar voice.

"This is a helluva place you got here… I mean, it's a good thing I had my tetanus shot but beyond that it's uh, _cozy._"

I turned sharply to see the man sauntering down the stairs; he was wearing an expensive looking grey suit and had carefully styled blonde hair. A little on the scrawny side, but I might've thought he was good looking if he wasn't radiating slime ball vibes. Gat was fast to his feet behind me, yanking on his shirt.

"Do I know you?" I voice icily at the intruder, slowly stalking across the foyer towards him.

"The name's Dane Vogel," Gat said on the man's behalf, "He works for Ultor. I remember he swung by the church a while back and offered Dex a job."

I swung a look over my shoulder, incredulous. I knew Dex had gone straight but I didn't think he'd just up and leave for Ultor the second someone offered it. "You're shittin' me?" I said.

"Who's Dex?" Pierce piped up – he'd been dozing on one of the sofas and was groggily getting up.

"Dex was a man who had higher aspirations than being a thug," Vogel said with a swagger in his step as he reached the bottom of the stairs, giving me an appreciative gaze. "You can't blame him for _'movin on up'_."

"He was a fuckin' sellout," Gat snapped behind me. Clearly a tender spot with him.

Vogel was unimpressed and shrugged. "You call him a sellout, I call him a millionaire."

By this point I really couldn't care less about Dex; there was a more obvious question staring me in the face. "What do you want?"

Dane turned all of his focus to me, offering a charming smile and said "I want to help you." I felt my shoulders give a small heave in a silent laugh.

"If I need any Ultor Unlimited sunglasses I'll steal'em," I said dryly. But in truth he'd gotten my curiosity. I'd trust him as far as an anvil could jump, but he had some gall to be wandering into this hideout and must've had a good reason. Vogel wasn't fazed by my comment at all, if anything he was amused.

"So you're familiar with our products?" he said lightly, the amiable smile stretching further across his face and he stepped a little closer to me. I heard Gat take a few heavy steps up till he was standing directly behind me, so suddenly close I could hear his growl and smell the fresh soap over his skin.

"Fuck off Vogel," He warned sharply – Vogel faltered and he glanced from Gat to me, the charming vanishing from his smile, and like that, he was all business.

"Do you want my help or not?" he asked coolly. I raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe," I said, just as Gat snapped a 'no' and Pierce voiced and enthusiastic 'yes'. I sighed and Vogel chuckled, walking past us.

"Well, this is a well oiled machine."

"What do you got?" I asked impatiently, stepping around Johnny to follow him. Vogel turned back to look at me levelly.

"We recently severed our ties with the Ronin," he said.

"Awe, you're breakin' my heart," Gat said, folding his arms and voice dripping with sarcasm and I had an urge to nudge him; this was interesting information.

"I know where the Akuji's lay their heads," Vogel continued undeterred, "I doubt any of your Lieutenants have that kind of information."

Gat shrugged, "I dunno. Shaundi's fucked a lotta guys."

"Gat's talking sense," Pierce added, but I was curious – we knew Ultor had ties to the Ronin from the start, if he was coming to us so quickly it must have been an unpleasant split. Still…

"How do we know it's not a trap?"

"That part's easy. I'll wait for you here," Vogel said lightly, picking out the newest of the sofas, dusting it off and sitting down. "If you don't make it back, one of your boys can take me out," He finished with a shrug. I was starting to find this confidence nauseating and evidently so was Gat – though he was a little more vocal about it, pulling the gun from his back pocket and striding up to Vogel.

"Yo why don't we just cut the waitin' part?" he said darkly, pointing the gun at Vogel's head. I tensed and took a step forward – I know Johnny was looking to pick a fight but he was starting to act stupid.

"I think the waiting part is very important," Vogel had said quickly, a hand up and the first flash of fear appearing in his eyes.

I spoke up quickly, "Where can we find them?" Johnny still wouldn't lower his aim.

"The Sakura Gardens Hotel downtown," Vogel replied as rapidly, "They own the business and the top half of the tower is the main residence for most of the high profile Ronin."

"Anything else on layout?" I added coolly. He blinked.

"It's a _hotel_," He said dryly. I narrowed my eyes and he sighed and shrugged, "It's cylindrical? There's a skylight on the top, looks straight down to the ground floor."

"I know what cylindrical means. Gat, you're with me," I said nodding sharply, wanting to get him out of there quickly. Blowing up a building should sate him for a while. "Pierce, you're baby sitting Vogel."

Both of them turned and looked at me with frustration, Pierce throwing his hands up.

"You sure you don't want me taking this asshole out now?" Johnny said. I gave him a piercing look and started for the stairs.

"Save the bullet for Akuji," I called out over my shoulder. Behind me I heard Gat said something lowly to Vogel before following me up the stairs.

* * *

><p>I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel impatiently as we cruised over the bridge. "Something's buggin' me…" I thought aloud. Gat, who was busy next to me checking and rechecking his guns, spared me a glance.<p>

"Hmn?"

"Vogel knew where to find us," I continued, "I mean, he just walked right on in to the hideout… those goons who tried to take me out a few weeks ago were pros, and they'd managed to track me down I'm guessing out of nowhere. Carlos and the boys haven't been able to find anything on them so far."

Gat stopped fiddling with the gun and shifted a little. "You think Ultor was behind it?"

"… Sounds crazy?"

"It'd probably sound less crazy if they had a motive," He replied with a shrug. I nodded.

"I know. I mean I've made enemies in my time but I don't really see what they have to gain by…"

"…What?"

I frowned, and then started rambling my thoughts aloud. "Ultor was the company that leveled the Row, but that was Hughes' plan originally. And Hughes was going to kill me over it because he knew I would try and stop it from happening but that wouldn't be their motivation _now_ cos the Row is already fucked. And then this just strolling on over and giving Dex a job is…"

"Fucked," Johnny interjected sharply, "More so seein' as he actually took the job without as much as a backward fuckin' glance," He finished bitterly. I nodded in agreement and felt my hands tighten on the steering wheel a little more – he'd dumped the crew, abandoned his friends when they needed him. I loosened my grip when I saw my knuckles going white.

"Ugh, I donno," I said shaking my head, "It's like I've got all the pieces there, I'm just too fuckin' stupid to put them together."

"You ain't stupid," Gat said quietly, going back to checking his guns. He continued after a beat, "Well, you know, sometimes I gotta wonder if you weren't dropped when you was a baby-"

"Lead paint in the nursery?" I added with a laugh.

"Your mom smoked pot when she was pregnant? Wait, no that was mine…" He said dryly, giving me the first indication of a smile I'd seen in days. I slapped a hand on his shoulder.

"We're fine, we are," I breathed in the city air and we pulled up across the road from the Sakura Gardens. I looked to the back seat which held a few home made satchel charges with timers and a grey parachute bag. "Now let's go blow up a hotel."

* * *

><p><strong>The character 'Dice' is an OC from another fic, 'Being A Saint' by MDGeistMD02 which is told fom the viewpoint of the foot soldiers. I thought the OCs in that were great so you may see them making an occasional Cameo here and there.<strong>


	10. R: Total War

**I really don't know where this chapter came from... but I'm glad I wrote it. Gives me an opportunity to muck around with Pierce a little.**

**To all my reviewers, thanks so much for sticking with me nd all your tips and encouragements!**

* * *

><p>Gat's Krukov rattled loudly in the lobby far below as I set the last charge on one of the pylons. I checked my watch and swore; the first charge would be down to the final three minutes, we were running out of time. Our cover had been blown fairly early on – notable as we were someone was bound to recognise us and figure out the duffle bags and backpacks weren't full of holiday luggage.<p>

The bomb's timer trilled at me once it was set and I knew I had to move. I glanced around the circular hall and saw Ronin guards come flooding in, swords drawn; I pulled my pistols from their holsters and took careful aim – I'd have preferred to have a shotgun or _something_ with more firepower, but lugging the explosives around hadn't left much room in my duffle (now laying forgotten next to me). One by one the guards jolted back as a bullet hit them each, the chest, stomach, head, wherever I could land one. I blew a bang out of my eyes and gave myself a grim smile of satisfaction – just as an explosion rattled the building from downstairs.

"Shit!" I swore loudly. There were more panicked shouts around the building and I checked my watch – the first bomb shouldn't have gone off just yet, it-

'_No time!_' I reminded myself. I had wanted enough to be able to make a more orthodox escape from the building but it looked like Plan B. I checked the pack's fastenings around my chest and in a low quick move got to the central railing. I heard a door burst open and more guards came flooding in – I emptied the last few shots I had at them, took a breath, and jumped the railing.

My stomach lurched into my throat as I started flying down, thick smoke already billowing up towards me. I gripped my fingers around the pull cord, snatching it open. The parachute fabric spewed out behind me, yanking me up and slowing my descent.

Just… not as much as I had expected.

The lobby came rushing up to greet me and I crashed hard into the marble floor, pain shooting up my legs as I did, tumbling forward and trying to release the pack from my shoulders before I tangled in it. It hadn't quite worked as I had hoped (I wasn't much of a physicist) but, I'd managed to survive a ten story drop which is more than most people could boast. Weakly I clambered to my feet, a sudden strong grip under one of my arms.

"Let's go B-"

Johnny's sentence was cut off as another bomb went off the in building, the shockwave nearly ripping my hair out of it's roots – we moved quickly to the pale light of the glass doors, spilling out onto the street, more explosions rocking behind us as we clambered quickly onto a Ronin bike – Gat took the front and I jumped on behind him and wrapped my arms around his waist – he flinched sharply and I loosened my grip, swearing a quick apology. He kicked the bike into life and we took off through the long courtyard and up the street, wind whirling around us as the bobs finally released in quick succession, roaring loudly and sending debris flying through the air around us, raining fire on the block.

Gat suddenly turned the bike and came to a sharp stop, and I felt my fingers grip his shirt tighter to stop from falling off. He was gazing back imperially at the building, and I turned my sight to it, drinking in the utter chaos we'd left in our wake.

The tall building was slowly spewing fire and smoke from nearly every level – another huge explosion rocked it, glass shattered and fell to the ground. I breathed out and grinned – I don't know if I can explain it. It's this mad, god-like surge of power, knowing that I'd brought down something so great, knowing just what Akuji would be thinking when he saw his building in ruins and knowing that we'd obliterated nearly all the lieutenants and left the enemy with only an old man and his smarmy, metro son to lead them. My mind flickered back to that night at Kanto, covered in the blood of my enemies and when I had sworn to myself that the Ronin would pay…

I looked up again at Johnny. I don't know what I had been expecting – his usual dark glee, a laugh or a shout or… something. Some sort of reaction. But he _wasn't_ reacting… to anything. I watched his shoulders rise and fall with a steady breath as he spoke.

"Total war now, Boss." He said with dark satisfaction.

The dark smile around my lips grew; "Total." I agreed.

* * *

><p>The Saints knew the score; I'd made it clear to Pierce, who for the next few days kept me busy with calls with more and more information he dug up on the Ronin. I'd never clicked with Pierce quite like I had with Carlos or Shaundi, but I'll say this much for him; he was as resourceful and cunning as Gat had promised. Everyday he brought me fresh news; the locations of the Ronin's lucrative porn-ring servers, a munitions' trade that was going down, underground gambling rings – with every piece of information my Saints launched a fresh, vicious attack on the Ronin, slowly crippling them, tearing the limbs of that gang off one by one.<p>

I could say it was revenge. I could say it was because they deserved it, or that we were making the world a better place. My Lieutenants could convince themselves it was righteous and noble but in the end, I wouldn't.

We killed them because we needed them dead. We needed not just the Ronin, but _anyone_ who wanted to step up to us to see what they would have to pay in blood and bodies to make it clear that crossing The Saints would never be worth it.

* * *

><p>I grunted as I pulled another chin up, breathing out a hearty sigh of satisfaction with each one; three years of immobility had wasted most of my muscle away and it had taken a long time to get back to this point. I gritted my teeth and dragged my body up once more before allowing myself to drop back down to my feet, swinging the feeling back into my arms and wiping the sweat from my forehead.<p>

I was in the Range at the hideout – though most of the space was given over to being a gym now, slowly collecting weights and other workout paraphernalia, it was still called 'The Range' – the name seemed to have stuck.

I was halfway through a bottle of water when my phone started buzzing at me – I yanked it from my back pocket and mashed the call button.

"What?" (My standard charming greeting).

"Boss? It's Pierce." The familiar voice replied with a strained sense of urgency. "Where you at?"

"The range, why?"

"Listen, I'ma need your help. One of my girls called me from Technically Legal, there's a Ronin bachelor party goin down _right now_. Thing is, they're startin to get a little touchy-feely." He said quickly. By the sounds of it he was driving and sounded pretty stressed.

"Where are you now? Can you swing by or am I getting there myself?" I asked – there was no chance of me passing this up. People putting the hurt on girls brought out something primal in me – maybe it was just my own personal sore spot.

"I'll pick you up in two minutes." Pierce finished quickly. I hit end call and quickly tugged on my sneakers, jogging from the range and into the lobby, taking the stairs two at a time to get to my room and grab my guns.

Murder time, fun time…

* * *

><p>"So I'm guessing there's a reason you're asking for <em>my<em> involvement on this one rather than just calling in some of the crew?" I asked, checking my Blossom and TK. Pierce was speeding through the suburbs like a bat out of hell.

"Well… y'know, I just thought it was your kinda thing." He said. There was something off about his tone though - I spared him a sidewards glance but that was about it. I had to steel myself and push it away to get ready for the fight that was coming.

"How many?" I asked coolly.

"Twenty maybe… but they should all be split up by the time we get there." He replied. He jerked the handbrake to drift around the corner, slamming it back down again as he roared into the parking of Technically Legal. I raised an eyebrow as he jumped straight out of the car and grabbed a shotgun from the back seat, a belt of ammo around his waist. I was quick out of the car behind him, but his behaviour was catching me off guard; usually Peirce was about strategies and planning. Hell, that's why he was ultimately indispensible to us, but now he was charging in like Galahad, blind and furious.

We kicked open the doors of the strip joint – it was pretty much empty save for the girls and the Ronin (they must've rented the whole place). Peirce was firing before anyone else got a shot off – it almost annoyed me if he didn't look so damn awesome doing it. But he was charging ahead before taking out all the opposition – perfect way to get a bullet in your back. I gritted my teeth and covered him, bodies dropping to the floor around us and finally I sprinted after him.

"Pierce!" I called out after him, but he was on the stage and kicked the door open to the back rooms. He halted only briefly when he _finally_ noticed I'd called out to him.

"There's more upstairs!" he called urgently as I jogged up to him. Together we pressed on.

The object or Pierce's… _ferocity_ soon became known. He kicked open one door and shot a Ronin who was atop a crying girl, pulling him off her – she tried to speak to him but he just swore, shook his head and went for the next room, kicking that door off it's hinges and launching at two Ronin who were holding down another girl who was now stripped bare, save her heels and earrings.

For all his strength and aggression it was still two on one – I jumped on the Ronin who'd drawn a knife and was about to plunge it into Pierce's back, wrapping an arm around his throat and yanking tightly. He tried to swing the knife back at me – he even managed to open a gash on my leg, but after everything I'd ever been through it might as well have been a paper cut. I snarled, pressed my palm against his temple and twisted sharply, hearing a satisfying crunch as the body went limp and crumpled beneath me.

Thank god I'd been working out…

"_Mia_!"

I glanced up from the body beneath me – Pierce's chest was bared and he was wrapping his shirt over the crying girl. She was a pretty thing, Hispanic, a shock of thick curly locks and eyes that would put Bambi to shame. She was shaking and hiding her face into Pierce's chest while he patted her wild hair.

Okay, so I was doing the rest of this by myself…

I went to storm the last two rooms – the asshole Ronin already busting out of the rooms, wild and confused – I unloaded the SMGs across the hall before any of them could get a shot out, delighting in watching those rapist motherfuckers being blown apart chunk by chunk.

Then the sudden silence erupted, that eerie, echoing feeling whenever a fight was finished and everyone was dead. As my hearing cleared I could discern the gentle crying of the girls, one or two of them poking their heads around the doorframes, thick makeup running down their faces. I lowered the guns, taking a few steps towards them.

"You'll be okay, you're safe now," I said reassuringly, hearing my voice drop an octave. I'd known for a while now that _asking_ them if they were OK in this situation was a flat out stupid question. I took a few steps towards the girls, pulling off my hoodie and wrapping it around one of them, a young woman with a vibrant red bob and emerald eyes.

"We can get you home," I reassured her and all the rest, "or if anyone needs to see a doctor, we'll call you a ride."

I felt my heart aching for them, but I had to be still and steady – my getting emotional would only upset them more. The girl in the hoodie burst into tears and fell onto me, gripping my top tightly as sobs shook her body. I ran a hand over her hair, rocking her back and forth instinctively.

My poor girls…

I could only wish I'd been there sooner.

* * *

><p>I flopped down onto the sofa with Pierce, a large glass of red in hand. He cracked open a beer for himself and put his feet up on the coffee table. We had to call in one or two rides to get the girls out of there – some wanted to go straight to the hospital, some home. A small handful, 'Mia' included, wanted to come back to the hideout with us. They were settled now in one of the better hotel rooms and everyone had been warned not to touch them on pain of rusty-knife castration.<p>

"So…" I said, taking a gentle sip of my wine, "_Mia_."

Peirce sighed and shrugged his shoulders, "Looks, she's a friend; she's done a few dances here before at parties and stuff."

I raised my eyebrows and gave him a speculative glare. I'd heard the way he'd said her name. I'd seen the way she looked at him, threw herself into his arms.

"You ever fuck her?" I asked bluntly, taking another sip.

He actually threw me a sharp look before pulling back, "Well, yeah, once." He fidgeted, "I mean, she's not a hooker or anything so it was a one off thing, party favour, you know."

I blinked and took another sip.

"Pierce…" I started, but he interrupted me.

"She's a stripper, Boss." he said quickly. I nodded and gave a lengthy pause.

"And that's an issue…?"

He scowled, "Why you always gotta be like that-"

"You know what?" I interrupted, realising I really wasn't in the mood for drama, "Fuckit. Your business is your business." I said, and he nodded, taking a long drag of his beer. I added as an afterthought, "Just… letting you know, strippers got feelings too."

A heavy silence fell. Pierce's mouth was tugged into a grimace as he stared at his beer.

"She's uh… savin' up to go back to school, y'know." he added quietly.

I only nodded.

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><p><strong>I'm a bit nervous about the next chapter... phew, here we go!<strong>


	11. R: The hard Goodbye

**Wow... by far my biggest chapter yet. There was actually going to be more than this but it kind of got so disproportionately long I decided to split it up. Quite nervous about it, can only hope I've done everything justice.**

**Reviews for this chapter would be greatly appreciated!**

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><p>I leaned in carefully to the mirror, brushing the mascara over my eyelashes, never as pedantic with my makeup as I was today. I wrapped my hair up carefully onto the top of my head, smoothing it with a fine comb, leaning back to observe my face. I thought I should be smiling at the sight, but my muscles wouldn't move. I turned around and walked to the end of my bed, leaning forward to carefully slip my shoes on, black snakeskin peep toes, the trademark red soles flashing brightly whenever I would take a step.<p>

"_They're Christian Louis Vuton! And they look sexy on you."_

"_Pumps aren't really my think Aisha… I can barely walk in these things."_

"_Fuckit. If you're going to be running a gang, you gotta be doing it in style. There are people you'll be dealing with who'll find a four hundred dollar pair of shoes much more impressive than a gun-"_

"_Four hundred fucking dollars?"_

I felt a tiny twitch at the corner of my mouth at the fond memory. Aisha had insisted on taking me out shopping with some of the cash from the Casino heist, and I had come home with these… I hadn't actually worn them since that day.

I stood, teetering on the precipice of the heels smoothing out the sleek black pantsuit and silk shirt I'd brought from _Impressions,_ pulling on the black blazer and sparing myself one last look in the mirror, seeing the svelte, grown woman looking back at me. The smile tugged a little more. Eesh would have been proud…

I stepped out of my room and into the hallway of the hideout – Johnny was already leaning against the wall waiting for me. He wasn't actually dressed properly yet, only jeans and a loose shirt over his bandaged torso. All his things were still at Aisha's and despite my offering to go fetch them he'd refused, instead insisted on stopping there first before continuing to the ceremony.

He hadn't been back to the house since the night Eesh died.

When he saw me he gave a low whistle. "Look at you, all grown up." He said quietly. My mouth tugged again and I took a step, the heel of my shoe slipping and I stumbled trying to recover quickly, earning a dark chuckle from him. I brushed a lock of hair from my eye and straightened, hoping I looked a little more regal.

"Ready to go?" I asked solemnly. His jaw set, and he nodded.

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><p>We pulled up outside the house, glancing to the door in unison.<p>

"… Gat, are you sure about this?" I asked quietly. He was already pushing his door open and getting out of the car. I heard him say something, 'It's nothing' maybe. I pushed out the drivers' door and walked around the car to the house. I had the strangest feeling; like once I opened the front door and stepped inside, there would be no rooms there.

But the insides were still the same, no gaping void. We walked in together, the air cold as we glanced around. We paused a moment, then Johnny started up the stairs to get changed. I waited for a beat at the bottom of the stairs, before eventually turning and stepping through the house, maudlin. I wandered past the living room, almost hearing Eesh's words in my mind.

'_We all thought you were dead… for someone who was blown to hell, you look great,_' I heard my own heels clack against the floor, sounding just like hers, stepping into the kitchen, cabinets still riddled with bullet holes. I could see myself, sitting up on the kitchen island. I saw her, leaning against the fridge and laughing at something I'd said.

Then I went to the dining room.

If I looked closely enough I could see the bloodstain on the floorboards that they'd tried so hard to scrub out. I could see the empty vase that once held the beheaded roses, an assortment of colour… like the ones Johnny had laying on the seat of the Venom for her. I wrapped my arms around myself, turning my vision sharply when I heard quiet footsteps behind me.

Johnny stood there regally, looking over the scene, his face emotionless. He'd changed his clothes; the suit was immaculate dark pinstripe and looked as if it had been sewn onto him.

I went to say something but he brushed past me, looking down at the floorboards where she fell.

There was a long, deafening silence. Johnny stood there, staring at the bloodstain, his fists slowly clenching and unclenching; I couldn't see his face, and all I could hear was the occasional snap or pop of his knuckles.

With a sudden roar grabbed the edge of the dining table lifting it, flipping it over and sending the vase and plates crashing to the ground. I took a few shocked steps back, finding myself bumping into the wall and he kicked a chair away, then picked up another and threw it. It was like watching an enraged bull in a china shop – everything in that dining room was destroyed by his bare hands. Above the sound of the shattering furniture and china I heard him swearing over and over again. I actually felt myself shake for a moment –I'd seen him angry, I'd seen him destructive, I'd seen him kill cops and blow up buildings but…

Finally I spoke up, my throat tight again.

"Johnny," I said feebly, and then found my voice, found my own pain, and shouted at him; "_Johnny! Stop it!_"

I lunged forward and grabbed his arms as he attempted to rip a picture from the wall. He fought hard against me and with a back hand sent me hurtling back into the wall, advancing fast, barely looking at me and sending a fist crashing through the plaster, so close to my face I could feel the cracks in the wall on my cheek. I froze, quickly gripping his wrist with one hand and snagging a fistful of his shirt with my other.

"_You fucking stop this Gat!_" I shouted, my own voice near hysteria. His eyes were hidden by the shading on his glasses but his teeth were gritted; he quickly went to pull away out of my grip but I threw my arms around him and held on tightly to subdue his struggles; even when he yelled at me to get off him, even when he tried to rip me off, I held on, my grip getting tighter and tighter.

"_LET ME GO YOU FUCKIN' WHORE!"_ he yelled at me, an agonizingly strong grip on my waist, causing me to wince and cry out in pain. _'Hate me if you have to Johnny'._ I felt a sudden wave of inertia and the air was slammed out of my lungs as he smashed the both of us back into the wall, more drywall cracking behind me. I felt my grip on him loosening as I tried to gasp for breath, but luckily for me he'd stopped struggling.

After a beat he pulled back and I released my hold on him, rubbing my side gingerly and he pulled back, shoulders heaving with deep breaths. He looked over his shoulder to the dining room, now nothing but broken furniture and fractured glass, then back at me, confusion flickering through his eyes.

"…Boss… I-"

I slapped him hard across the face. I could hardly remember the last time I'd slapped someone. I mean I punched and kicked and stabbed often enough but this was different.

_My friend_ was being buried today. And he'd just tried to put me through a fucking wall.

"Don't you _ever_," I said, still trying to regain my breath, "Call me a whore."

We both stood in the shattered room, trying to control our breathing, Gat carefully rubbing his cheek where my hand had made impact.

Behind his glasses his eyes blinked, his mouth pulled back into a tight frown. He turned, looking over the room that was now in splinters around us.

"Shit." He said flatly. I nodded.

"…We need to go," I said steadily.

"…Yeah." Was his only response. I started walking out of the dining room, listening to his footsteps behind me. His hand came up and stared brushing plaster and paint from my shoulders and hair.

Then to my amazement, his rage had melted. It sunk, disappeared like it had at the hospital, burying itself back behind that cool, deadpan expression. Not used up, far from it. But controlled. Carefully I walked down the steps and over the uneven pavement, glowering at the weeds that had dared sprout in her garden. Wordlessly, we got in to the Venom, and pulled out of Aisha's driveway.

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><p>A thin rain dusted our shoulders as we stepped through cemetery, eventually off the road and up onto the grass. My fingers ran tensely over the stems of the lilies I carried, their sweet perfume echoing in the air. I saw the small gathering of Saint Guards around the marble angel that would mark Aisha's resting place, and as we stepped closer, the mahogany coffin itself could be seen between the people. I swallowed a lump in my throat when I saw it, and beside me Johnny began to slow his approach.<p>

Eventually the few Saints noticed us, turning to solemnly greet us. In their midst was a single small woman, clad entirely in black, a large hat shading her face. She turned to look at us and I felt my jaw drop a little, paces quickening as the girl took a few hesitant steps towards us.

"Tiana," I said breathlessly. Why I should be surprised Aisha's little sister was here I'm not sure; she was one of the few who knew Aisha was still alive, but to my knowledge had been living in Steelport for the past three or four years. She was taking quick, stumbling steps towards us, tears already staining her full cheeks. Johnny was quick to meet her and she threw his arms around his waist, head barely reaching his shoulder. He in turn put his arms protectively around the young woman, his jaw clenched. I heard her mumble something into his shirt before sniffing, looking to me with sweet sorrow, taking a few steps and before I knew it had pulled me into a close embrace.

I was surprised, even more so when I found my hand gently patting her back to soothe her. She pulled back, looking to both of us with tearful eyes, lips pulled into an awkward, miserable smile.

"It's… it's good to see you both," she croaked with a small sob. Johnny put a hand on her shoulder.

"You been taking care of yourself?" he said quietly, all the concern of an older brother. Tia nodded mutely; putting a hand over his as her bottom lip trembled, threatening more tears. As one we turned and started back to the burial site, Tia sticking closely by Gat who couldn't seem to look at her. I leant to one of the Saints as we approached, who reverently leant in to hear me.

"Keep her safe, you hear me?" I said lowly, nodding to Tia, "While ever she's in Stilwater, she's protected."

The Saint nodded curtly, murmuring a 'yes Boss' and turning to signal to a few of the others. I stepped up to stand by Johnny and gazed down at the coffin; the reverend spread his hands to greet us all, and began the rites.

I'll admit, through the prayers and ceremony I didn't really think of feel anything. I knew Aisha had been religious enough to warrant the biblical readings from the celebrant, but it felt and sounded hollow... it could have been anyone in that coffin. At last he pressed a leather marker into the bible and closed it, moving aside as Tiana stepped forward, a few small cards in her hand. She trembled, tears running down her cheeks, and finally, words were spoken that truly honoured my friend. Tiana spoke affectionately of her childhood with Aisha and proudly of all her sister had achieved, of all the lives she'd touched with her music.

"Aisha was always the feisty and fearless one in the family, but she also had a lot of love to give, and I've never known anyone with a kinder heart," Tiana read statically from her card with a trembling voice, cracking slightly as she spoke her next words, pausing in awkward spots, "Though my sister was taken from this world too soon, I find comfort in the memory of the last words we spoke to each oth-" Tia quickly ducked her head and sniffed – the celebrant settled a hand on her shoulder but she shrugged it off, regaining herself and pressing on, "When she spoke about her life here it was always with happiness, telling me about her home, her amazing friends, and the wonderful man in her life," She said, lifting her head to give a tear filled, grateful smiled to Johnny. I allowed my eyes to flicker up to him, heat prickling behind my eyes threatening tears when I did. His whole body was tensed as he tried to restrain the pain from appearing on his face. Tiana quietly finished her eulogy, breaking down into tears as the last few words spilled from her trembling lips. The Saint I'd spoken to before approached her side and put a hand to her elbow, leading her back. Quietly the pastor stepped up again, opening his prayer book and speaking in his reverent, baritone accent.

"Eternal rest grant unto her O Lord, and may perpetual light shine on her."

I stepped forward silently – my hand shook – and dropped the lilies I carried onto the coffin and stepped back. I looked intently at the polished mahogany, as if trying to look past the wood and at my friend inside – she had always been so fiery that it didn't seem right she would be sleeping there in that little box.

"May her soul and the souls of the faithful departed rest in peace..."

Johnny walked forward, a bunch of roses, one of every colour, in his hands. There was always a bouquet of those flowers in Aisha's house, I recalled… he knelt, placing the flowers onto the coffin, his fingers gently brushing the polish for a moment. I thought I heard him murmur something but I couldn't catch the words. He took a few steps back, head bowed, and I couldn't help but wonder if he was praying.

I closed my eyes, something shadowy slipping in around my heart and curling into my throat and behind my eyes. Memories of my frined flashed behind my closed lids, and suddenly, it hadn't been enough. She was gone too soon, and I'd never had enough time, there was too much left undone... Before I knew it I could feel hot tears swimming from behind my lashes.

But I couldn't let them fall.

I had to be strong for Johnny and Tia…

I kept my eyes closed, head bowed, breathing slowly… Then the heart-rending stillness of the air was interrupt in the distance, the loud rumbling of engines…

My eyes snapped open. No.

The rumbling grew louder and I felt my brow knit. _No_. I glanced to the road and saw the small barrage of yellow bikes glinting through the rain and I gritted my teeth, my pain morphing into an ugly, furious monster crouching somewhere in my lungs. The Pastor paused in his address to turn look at them as they roared to a stop opposite us – everyone looked at them, but Johnny, who instead of looking ahead at the bikers kept his eyes down on Aisha's coffin.

We weren't the only ones. Another small funeral taking place only a few plots down had stopped, watching the bikers nervously, a few already retreating. I looked quickly to the Saints and wordlessly indicated to Tiana, who was looking about with fright and confusion. They all nodded and moved protectively around her, a human shield, slowly moving her away. I turned my attention back to the Ronin, the one at the front taking off his helmet and glaring at us.

I felt my blood boil at the sight of him… _Shogo_. I'd only seen him distantly ocne or twice, never close enough to exchange a word or bullet.

"You two have humiliated my family for the last time!" he shrieked at us. Johnny wasn't looking at him, he wasn't even moving. But he did speak, his voice a rumbling, dangerous threat.

"Leave, little boy."

"_Look_ at me when I'm talking to you!" Shogo shouted, undeterred and clearly unaware of what danger he was throwing his self in the way of. Gat still didn't look up at him when he spoke.

"Fuck off Akuji," he said without venom, "I'm not killin' anyone at Eesh's funeral. Tonight, tomorrow, you name a time and place and I will gladly fuck you up. But not now."

I wanted so badly to agree with Johnny, but I knew Shogo would not be leaving. I felt my hand slip into my jacket and draw my gun. In the distance, a church bell began to chime, echoing eerily around the cemetery. Shogo sneered at us.

"How _noble_. Nobility is sorely overrated." He said, drawing his gun and all the others behind him following suit. I looked quickly to the Saint holding Tia's arm as I drew my gun.

"Get Tia _out_ of here," I said lowly and quickly, to make sure there was no confusion to where his first priority was to lie. He nodded curtly, quickly moving the young woman, and protecting her with his own body as the graveyard erupted into gunfire, the few mourners screaming and running for their lives.

I let the monster that had been stewing in my chest out at that point, jumping behind a gravestone and firing my twin pistols at them. My heels wobbled dangerously over the sodden earth and I kicked them off, bare feet soaking into the mud. I swore – I hadn't been expecting a fight and wasn't as prepared as I would have wanted. We at least had our Saint guards for backup… But I saw a bullet take a chip out of the angel statue that stood guard over Aisha's grave and heard a wooden thud as a bullet landed on her coffin.

The same blind rage hit Gat and me both. We charged, firing and reloading and firing and stealing weapons from the corpses – once Johnny was out of ammo he just began snapping necks. In truth I can barely remember anything of the fight, only the blinding, white hot fury, and then seeing Shogo trying to escape like the little bitch he was. I snagged an SMG from a dead Ronin and got astride one of their bikes, kicking it into gear and chasing Shogo down – he was flying to the gates when I opened fire, blowing out one of his tyres and sending him swerving and crashing onto the road. I pulled up next to Shogo, who rolled over the bitumen, stunned, eyes widening in horror when he saw me towering over him. I snarled, and grabbed him by the shirt, yanking his limp body up till he stood unsteadily on his feet, hands on my wrists, trying to wrestle himself free. I yanked him hard and shook him, hissing through my teeth.

"Any other time Shogo," I snarled at him, "_Any_ other time. But you had to go and choose today."

"What – what are you going to do with me?" he said quickly, pausing in his struggles. But I was done talking with this sonofa bitch. I half dragged him back into the now quiet cemetery, smacking him whenever he struggled too hard. I dragged him through the tombstones, past my injured Saints and the fallen Ronin, to where Johnny stood, so still he might have been carved form the same marble as the angel that watched over Aisha.

Shogo was still wailing, "Where are you taking me? Let me go!"

My eyes met Johnny's, his face cold and steely, his fist balling up. I threw Shogo to him and straight into Gat's furious, waiting punch.

"Get up." Johnny growled darkly, his voice frighteningly soft. I knew this wouldn't be pretty… Gat would make Shogo suffer for what was done, and I would stand back and let him. Shogo tried to stand, glaring at Johnny and tried to kick him. Gat just grabbed his leg and slammed an elbow down onto Shogo's knee, causing the lesser man to cry out in pain. Gat lurched forward, head butting him hard, and Shogo dropped to the ground.

"Get up."

Shogo slowly struggled to his feet again, swinging a loose punch as Johnny that actually made the lightest contact, turning the other's cheek slightly. But my friend's retaliation was a sudden, heavy punch making his opponent buckle over, and Gat slammed his knee into Shogo's nose. He flew backwards, landing heavily against a tombstone, the little bitch turning and hiding into it. Johnny's voice was cold.

"Get up" he repeated. Shogo shuddered pathetically and I looked away, almost feeling ashamed that such a little bitch could have been our adversary… his weakness almost made me feel sorry for him, considering whatever it was Johnny had coming.

"Please… stop…" Shogo whimpered. Johnny only cracked his knuckles, unaffected.

"Not so fun when you're fighting someone who isn't tied to a chair, is it?" he growled. Shogo sobbed.

"_I DIDN'T KILL HER!_" he screamed desperately. I narrowed my eyes wordlessly.

"You ordered it." Johnny said, then suddenly drew back his fist and slammed it into Shogo's face so hard it shattered the bullet ridden tombstone and sent him flying through it. Shogo curled up on the grass in the mess of broken stone, blood dripping from his face and he croaked a few words…

"I'm sorry,"

"Well that brings her back, doesn't it?" Johnny said darkly, grabbing him by the collar and dragging a vainly struggling Shogo across the ground, snarling his words in fury. "You couldn't even let her have a _burial_ in peace you _fucking piece of shit_,"

I took a few solemn steps to follow them, frowning as I watched Gat drag Shogo to the abandoned funeral a few plots across. I watched as Gat threw Shogo to the ground, and then grabbed the stranger's coffin, tipping it over with a sudden burst of strength and spilling the body inside of it onto the earth. My eyes widened when I realised what he was planning on doing and I quickened my pace. I could hear Shogo's horrified pleas growing as soon as he realised his fate.

"No… please, _no_" he begged as Johnny picked him up and threw him onto the soft white satin inside the coffin, slamming the lid down heavily and kicking the motor descent. Shogo started screaming and kicking from inside. I looked to the ground, picking up a shovel in the pile of earth and another that had been leaning against a tombstone, handing it to Johnny. Shogo's horrified shrieks echoed from the bottom of the grave as we started piling earth onto him.

"_Kill me!_" he begged,_ "But_ _don't do this! JUST KILL ME DAMMIT! DON'T DO THIS!_"

He continued to beg, not for his life but for his death, his screams of terror slowly being muffled as we piled shovel after shovel of dirt on top. I could almost feel sorry for him, but all it took was one look at Johnny and any misgivings were washed away in a wave of cold cruelty. I dug another heavy shovel full of dirt and piled it on top of the rattling coffin. The rain began to pour harder, mingling with the sweat and turning the dirt to mud. I had enough sense to grab the woman's body and carefully as I could drop it into the grave, piling more earth on top.

Eventually Shogo's screams were suffocated totally, buried under six feet of earth. Gat leant on his shovel, breathing hard, a hand on his side under his ruined pinstripe jacket and his face deathly pale. He snarled at the patch of raw earth, hocking deeply and spitting on it.

I pushed a lock of soaked hair from my face, sticking my shovel into the ground and tilted my head back, letting the cold rain cool my flushed cheeks and slowly wash away the dirt and blood on my hands.

"I wonder how long till he stops screaming…" I mused to myself darkly, but unable to smile. I turned my face to look to Johnny, who was leaning against a chipped tombstone, breathing heavily, a hand still on his side. "Johnny?" I asked tentatively, approaching and putting an gentle hand on his shoulder, "You right?"

He only nodded, jaw tight, dark eyes hidden behind the tinted glasses. He released a shuddering, heavy breath and sniffed, hocking deeply and spitting at the grave again. His face contorted with pain and he wiped a hand over his cheeks, leaving a smudge of mud in its wake. Even now I can't be sure if it had only been rain and sweat that has been running down his face.

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><p><strong>Phew. Again, reviews for this chapter are hugely appreciated.<strong>


	12. Sleep It Off

**I apologise in advance, but this chapter is roughly 90% fluff.**

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><p>The bartender gave Johnny and me a nervous look as he came to refill out glasses – red for me, scotch for Johnny, about our seventh or maybe eighth complimentary refill. My head was staring to swim and beside me I saw Gat's eyes were unfocused. I couldn't blame the tender for being uneasy; we were sitting up at the bar, dressed in our best clothes – and covered in dirt and blood. In this town, you knew not to ask questions.<p>

Gat turned, swaying slightly and holding his glass up towards me, a very slender smile on his face, "You know they say good friends help you move house, true friends help you move bodies?"

"Yeah?" I replied, blinking at him to try and focus.

"Whaddo they say about people who help you bury fuckers alive?"

I laughed. I didn't want to, not today, but I had to. Shogo, you fuck…

"He's probably still screaming." I said darkly, not relishing it but knowing Gat would. I glanced up at the bartender, who was staring at us with an expression of half disbelief, half horror. I raised an eyebrow.

"Somethin' you wanna say?" I growled darkly. He just shook his head quickly and went back to polishing the glasses. Gat chuckled darkly next to me, sadistic satisfaction and rage fighting for control over his features.

"He couldn't let her have a funeral… so I gave him one. Logical."

I slapped a hand on his shoulder a few times in agreement – I liked his logic. I frowned, swaying slightly and looking at my shoes sitting up on the bar. I'd tried wiping away some of the mud but I'd have to take them somewhere to get repaired.

"He made me ruin my shoes." I said bitterly, "Eesh would'a killed him for that." I said with a slight smile and a small laugh.

"Fuckin _shoes_," Gat said with a tipsy smile, his eyes beginning to twinge with pain. Then after a beat, "Eesh woulda never killed no one. She was too good. She was…"

"Your soul mate?" I said carefully sipping my wine.

"Fuck no." Gat replied, taking me by surprise.

"Uh?"

He was quickly shaking his hands to correct himself, "Not like that but…" He swayed in his seat, looking away and becoming philosophic, "I mean, c'mon, her soul was too damn good to be part of _mine_. Aisha was… she didn't deserve me. No I don't mean like that, I mean… she never did _nothing_ to deserve me _happening_ to her." He ran a hand through his hair, frowning darkly, "She was good, y'know? She was an angel, she was-"

"The light to your darkness…"

He looked at me groggily, brought up his drink to point it at me.

"That's… right."

His words had transported me back years, back to being convinced of leaving my sad little home and following Seth to Stilwater… Seth said that to me all the time. I'd been a light once… Seth had changed that.

"I dunno… it's weird without her." Johnny continued, shaking his head and staring at the ice in his glass. I hadn't seen him this good and wasted in a while; the man had the constitution of a grizzly bear… then I remembered the huge amounts of pain killers we was on everyday for his massive stab wound… I don't think you're supposed to drink when you're on those, but I was no doctor. Gat's eyes were unfocused as he continued, "Shit. She… of all the _fuckin_ people on the planet she was the _last_ one who deserved this. She was _good._ I mean if anyone's my god damn soul mate it's you."

"Wha?"

"C'mon. You an' me, we're cut from the same cloth." He said matter-of-factly, and I could only nod, "But Eesh shouldn't have been caught in this – I dragged her into it and it was _my_ job to protect her and I fuckin' failed."

I landed a hand over his shoulder. "Don't go there." I warned him quickly, steadily as I could, "I know it's tempting, but don't think like that. Her death isn't on you."

"How_ isn't_ it?" he growled, glaring at the ice in his glass and downing another mouthful of scotch.

"Just take it from someone who's _actually_ killed a boyfriend before, this one isn't on you." I said, taking another sip. There was a lengthy silence before I realised what I'd said to him. Seth had just been on my mind – I'd slipped up.

"What did he do to make you kill him?"

"… He… No, no, that's not important. What I'm saying is there's a big difference between feeling responsible and _being_ responsible." I said, taking another mouthful of wine.

"… What did he do?" Gat repeated. I sighed.

"… You remember that VK you found for me?" I ventured, still unsure if I wanted to explain everything to him.

Gat gave an empty laugh, "Shit, like I could forget you shooting a guys dick off,"

I felt a dark smile curl around my mouth at the memory. Gat's hand was suddenly on my shoulder, "Shit, he was your _boyfr_-"

"Wha? No! Fuck no, not _him._" I said, running a hand through my hair and almost laughing. I sighed and thought about how to continue – I'd only ever shared this with two other people before… one of them was Aisha.

"Long story short, my boyfriend seemed to think I was a piece of property that could be sold to pay off debts. I had to remind him otherwise."

I tried to take another sip of my drink to look cool but a bit splashed out of the corner of my mouth and a drop ran down my neck. I swore and mopped it up with my palm. Gat was leaning both elbows on the bar, eyebrows raised as he stared at me.

"It was _definitely_ a lot more than you makin' it out to be," he said coolly. I just rolled my eyes, head swimming.

"Johnny, I don't really want to talk about a guy I was in love with who did so fuckin bad by me I had to put a bullet in his eye." I said darkly, looking at my reflection in my glass of wine. It had been a rough day… I didn't want any worse memories infecting me. "But… when you mentioned before that you'd never really seen me with a guy… yeah. That's kinda the reason. To be honest, the thought of anyone even touching me like that again makes me sick."

Whoa, verbal vomit… there was a thick silence as I got my head around what I had just acknowledged. I'll admit it never really crossed my mind before as to why I just wasn't interested in guys… I'd always sort of figured I was too focused on my 'career'. But no… since that night so many years ago, it was as if any part of me that wanted sex or love or that was capable of feeling that passion that I'd had with Seth had… vanished. My brow creased… was it gone totally? Would I never be able to have what Johnny had with Aisha? I spared a shot sidewards glance to him – maybe it was a good thing. Seeing the pain he felt in losing her wasn't something I wanted for myself. I had always been a loner, since I was a child; surely missing out on that whole 'love' thing wouldn't be too hard on me. That was all Disney bullshit anyway.

I felt Johnny's hand on my shoulder and I sighed and shook my head.

"Okay, I've either had way too much to drink, or not enough," I said, forcing the subject away.

"I'll drink to _that_," he replied, and we clinked our glasses together.

A few hours later and I opened my eyes, my head feeling several sizes too big, my eyes and mouth dry. I groaned with the realisation I'd have to put up with this for the rest of the day, slammed my eyes shut, shoved my face into my pillow and willed myself to sleep more of the hangover off. Whether I did or not I can't be sure, but eventually I rolled over onto my back, bumping into an unconscious Gat beside me, still fully dressed in his dirtied, bloodied suit from the day before, shoes and all. I grunted and sat up, looking down at my own filthy clothes, silk blouse ruined, rips in my far-too expensive slacks.

Christ I needed a shower.

I stood up, head swimming, and felt with some relief I was still a little drunk – I checked the time on my phone and estimated a good two or three hours before I hit the wall. I stumbled vaguely into my ensuite, careful to lock the door behind me and started tugging off the $500 rags with a sigh, plucking the pins and clasps from my hair till it tumbled down over my shoulders.

I sat in the shower for a long time, just enjoying the feel of the lukewarm water washing away the grime on my skin. The boys were doing a great job of fixing the place up; all the garbage was gone and most of the walls had been stripped back, newer furniture was coming in… Gat had been right when he said the hotel had potential. But by far their greatest achievement was the plumbing. It had taken a long time but we were finally hooked up, hijacking water from neighbouring buildings. I'd nearly kissed the boys when they showed me my new bathroom which was by far the best room in the hideout so far, small though it was.

Though admittedly at the moment it was far too bright for my liking.

I began scrubbing my skin and hair clean, brushing my teeth and nearly retching. I leant my head against the warm tiles and closed my eyes before a sudden banging on the door caught my attention.

"Boss, you alive in there?" Gat's called through, sounding groggy. I sighed.

"Yeah."

I twisted the water off and crawled out of the shower, the hangover slowly getting worsening as I sobered. My head spun painfully and I could hardly remember ever feeling that nauseated. Looks like I was going to hit the wall a little sooner than I thought… I grabbed a towel and roughly rubbed my limbs and hair dry for half a second, wrapping it around my body and edging my way to the door. I unlocked it and creaked it open only far enough to poke my head out. Johnny was flopped facedown across the bed.

"Gat?" I said, my own voice far too loud and hurting my head. He groaned a reply. I stumbled slowly to my feet and slipped out of the bathroom, hunting through my drawers for underwear and a bra, yanking them on and throwing my towel back into the bathroom, before dizzily searching the floor for my jeans. Or any pair of pants for that matter. My fingers wrapped around a black pair of bell bottoms and I yanked them over my hips, nabbing a short purple camisole and dragging it lazily over my head and managed to tug it halfway down my torso before giving up, flopping back down on the bed next to Gat.

"Johnny, you drink too much," I groaned quietly to the ceiling.

"You too Boss, you too…" he mumbled back into the mattress.

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><p>Things were dissonantly quiet for the next few days. Word was spreading fast around the crew of what Johnny and I had done to Shogo, and it would only be a matter of time before it reached Akuji's ears. As far as the Ronin knew, Shogo was only missing, not six feet under after having slowly suffocated in that coffin. I didn't really care at this point that things had abruptly become static – I wanted the break. For the past few days I felt like all my energy was draining away, getting sucked out of this hole somewhere in my chest.<p>

I slept a lot. My body clock was soon so far out of whack I was waking up around eleven or midnight and getting back to sleep by lunch. I'd only ever exert myself to check up on Johnny or take him out for a drive – to anyone else he probably seemed fine, practising his shooting, working out, or going out and raising hell. But at one point I had woken up and found him lying next to me, eyes closed and headphones plugged into his ears. I could recognise the beat and lyrics that faded through the tiny speakers as one of Aisha's songs – a ballad that would show off her range. I'd always liked her slower songs better. I'd studied Johnny's face – from the corner of one closed eye I could see the shimmer of a dried trail over his skin. Whatever he showed to the other Saints, I knew then, was only what he wanted them to see.

I was blinking my eyes open from another nap when I was aware of someone else in the room – I rolled over sharply, hand slipping beneath my pillow for my knife, only to see Shaundi sitting cross-legged on the bed, watching me. I rubbed sleep from my eyes.

"You have _any_ idea how damn creepy that is?" I mumbled, narrowing my tired eyes at her, then burying my face back into my pillow, wondering if I could convince my body to go back to sleep.

"Uh uh, don't go back to sleep Boss," Shaundi said, smacking me on the butt. My leg jerked and I kicked her off my bed, growling and extracting a yelp from her. I didn't like people trying to wake me up, much less so by spanking me. I felt her weight back on the mattress and cursed her tenacity.

"Come _on _Boss. Are you going to talk about this or keep trying to sleep it off?" She said, crawling up to lay next to me. I felt my brow crease – talk about _what_?

"There's nothing to talk about," I growled into my pillow, "I'm just tired. It's been _tiring_ few weeks. Go away n' let me sleep."

"I know it's been rough but this isn't like you," I heard her say; "You know it isn't. You lost your chutzpah."

"My wha?"

"Sorry, been seeing this cute Jewish guy lately," she said with a laugh. I turned my face from the pillow to frown at her but she just pulled a joint from her pocket. "You mind?" she asked politely before lighting up. I shook my head.

Shaundi started puffing away serenely, practising her smoke-hoops as she did. I was increasingly annoyed.

"You're either here cos you got something to say, or because you wanted to share that," I grouched. She grinned back at me and offered the joint. I rolled onto my back, taking the joint from her and enjoying a long drag, holding it a while to get my head swimming before releasing the breath and handing the joint back to her.

Crap, she smokes strong stuff…

"Better?" She asked, taking another hearty drag, passing it back again. I drew a grateful breath of it and handed it back to her, feeling my muscles relaxing and my mind becoming wonderfully numb.

"… Have you even cried yet?" she asked.

I turned my gaze to look at Shaundi, who was watching me sadly. I tried to scowl at her.

"I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head, "I don't wanna be stepping out of line but a few of us are getting worried. Gat keeps saying to just leave you alone but Carlos is really concerned too."

"I'm just tired Shaundi," I said, but it sounded like a warning when the words came from my mouth. There was a beat, but she handed me the joint and pressed on.

"Boss, she was your friend-"

"-_Shau_"

"-And I know you've been keeping it together for Gat but… you're just lying here, _not_ dealing with what happened. I mean it's been four days-"

"Get out." I snarled as I sat up, my resentment at her not mixing well with the smoke in my brain. Shaundi shifted but she didn't move away,

"We need you." She said, and finally fell silent. I felt my anger begin to abate – staying angry took energy that I simply didn't have. I felt myself slump forward a little, elbows resting on my knees, the joint still balanced between my fingers. Shaundi gingerly plucked it away, stubbing it out on a plate on my bedside table before tucking it behind her ear. I felt her press the back of her hand to my forehead.

"What now?" I sighed. She patted my hair and I felt my annoyance flare again.

"Just checking that you're not actually sick," she said simply.

A long silence fell and I closed my eyes. I hadn't cried. And I wasn't going to. I wasn't going to let my emotions get the better of me. In fact, I thought I was handling this all very well.

"So you think you've been sleeping heaps cos you've just been burning the candle at both ends, right?" she said. I rolled my eyes and nodded. "Cos_ I_ think you're depressed." She finished.

I involuntarily punched her. Luckily for her I was moderately high so my movements were sluggish. She grumbled and got up, rubbing her arm gingerly.

"Okay, sorry," she said, "Look, c'mon down stairs. The boys have been working on the place; they want you to check it out." She said, trying to take my hand. I pulled away and flopped back down onto the bed. Shaundi just sighed and took the joint out from behind her ear, waving it under my nose.

"C'mon…" she teased, edging it away from my nose, smiling cheekily "Cuhhh monnn…"

I growled and swiped for the joint and she predictably hopped away from me.

"Fuckit." I growled, getting up. I _wasn't_ depressed.

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><p><strong>Your reviews are my Loa Dust! Please feed my habbit!<strong>


	13. R: The Last Samurai, Part I

**This chapter wound up being so friggen long (by my standards) I decided to chop it into two parts. This is also one of those chapters that will jump perspectives a bit, sorry if it jolts.**

**Thankyou everyone for all the great reviews, they've been inspiring me like nothing else!**

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><p>Kazuo Akuji launched his attack the next day. As I'd expected, word of what we'd done to Shogo was reaching far, even appearing in a newspaper, and earning me a visit from an old friend.<p>

Mr Wong was a Chinatown heavy hitter who recently came back from business in Hong Kong; he was a wizened man who refused to speak English despite understanding it perfectly, and for these reasons his young translator Lu heeled to him, speaking on his behalf. It was amusing to see that the translator had still managed to keep his job after all these years, particularly since his employer had once shot out one of his knee caps for purposely miss-speaking on Wong's behalf.

When I was just starting out with the Saints I made a name for myself by taking out hits for him, people who'd shamed his family, insulted him, or dressed up as hotdogs. Turns out he had a personal beef with the Akuji family and had been a rival of Kazuo's for some time…

That and Shogo apparently killed his dog, little fucker.

Anyway. Mr Wong had wanted to thank me for disposing of Shogo, and Pierce had brought him to the hideout; what we didn't know was that what was left of the Ronin had been following our every move and tailed them back, Akuji himself spearheading the attack.

You gotta give it to him, for an old guy he had balls.

We managed to fend them off, but it had cost us; they'd attempted to take out the pylons that held up the ceilings and had nearly succeeded. It was costing us a lot of time and money to get them repaired, putting the rest of the renovations on hold. The other trouble was that they knew the location of our hideout now, and if it got around to the other gangs it could make us vulnerable, particularly if the Samedi decided they didn't like us under their turf. So for the moment the Saints were in lockdown; though we had the Ronin under our boots and controlled pretty much all the north island, I knew Akuji would use everything left in his arsenal to try and get his revenge, after seeing how close he'd come to causing out hideout to cave in on itself. We'd need to finish him off fast; I just wanted every safe house fortified till we had a direct plan of attack.

So when Mr Wong told me he was going to go ahead with hosting the Heritage Festival at the North Island esplanade I was a little concerned; I liked Mr Wong, he had been a good employer back in the day, and if he was out and about Akuji would no doubt go after him, to settle personal scores and to find a way to get at me. When I voiced these concerns to him he just rattled away in Cantonese at me till I gave up, and told Johnny to follow him to the festival to keep an eye on him. Johnny, of course, didn't seem too keen on the idea of baby sitting Mr. Wong till I elaborated.

"Look, Wong is as good as bait at this festival." I said, "Trust me; you'll have plenty of people to shoot if they get in your way, the Ronin will be searching for any opportunity to get at him. Either that or you can do a drive around and check up on all the safe houses with me, cos I'm _certain_ that'd be more fun." I finished dryly.

Gat only chuckled, "Well, if you're gonna be there I'm sure there'll be enough explosions happening to keep us both entertained." He joked. I pulled back my laugh and raised an eyebrow at him, indicating to Wong.

Truth be told, I wouldn't have trusted this to anyone else; Gat was probably the only person I knew who wouldn't need backup. He sighed, slung his rifle over his shoulder and nodded, following Wong and his translator up the stairs.

* * *

><p>The Downtown loft was packed out when I got there; having been much more central to our turf now it was the base of operations for the majority of the gang. I still preferred the hideout (which was also the destination for any Saints trying to keep their heads down), but the loft certainly had its appeal.<p>

I bought the place under a falsified name a few weeks ago for a great price (the previous owner had been a Ronin lieutenant who _mysteriously_ disappeared), the place already furnished and professionally decorated. It wasn't my personal style, but it looked good enough and the crew certainly liked it, turning it into a venue for a never ending party. It was split-level, the upper half a dedicated master bedroom that was technically mine, but seeing as I never slept there it was pretty well up for grabs to whoever decided to crash there that night. I didn't care; it was my bedroom at the hideout that was off limits.

I moved through the maelstrom of purple, people laughing, drinking, some of them dancing. I was personally checking up on ammunition, cash and other supplies the crew had, seeing what news any of the troops had for me. Pierce strutted beside me, talking to a few bangers under his jurisdiction.

"You know Boss," he said over the loud music, "You really need to delegate more. We're a lot bigger than we were a few weeks ago."

I nodded an acknowledgment; things had escalated pretty quickly, and I don't think anyone had been expecting us to tear through the Ronin so quickly. But then, things tended to snowball like that when driven by personal vendettas.

"I'm a hands-on kind of girl," I replied.

"What?" Pierce voiced over the music. I frowned.

"I said, I-"

I was bumped from behind by a dancing Saint, causing the butt of the rifle strapped to my back to knock me on the head. I growled, instinctively shoving him back then drew my gun. Enough.

I spied the stereo and narrowed my eyes, whipping the pistol from my thigh holster and discharging a few rounds, feeling a good deal of satisfaction when the system shattered and was silenced. There were a few shouts and nearly everyone drew their gun, calming when they realised it was just me going postal. A few groans and protests went up, like tired children being told to go to bed. I quickly got up onto the arm of a sofa so I could be seen (not having the height advantage Johnny or Pierce had).

"Look, I get you're all wanting to party right now-" I lied. I really had no idea what the appeals of parties were or why some people were so insistent on doing it all the time. I liked music; I liked a few drinks and the company of my close friends, but 'parties' always seemed like a lot of noise and nonsense, the kind that could only come from too many sort-of friends stuffed into a small space with too much alcohol and no decent concert or real event to be at. I rattled this from my head and continued, "But the Ronin aren't done yet. You all know Akuji is pretty well pissed after what we did to Jyunichi and Shogo-"

Most of them erupted into cheers and I waved them down; there were still some Saints with enough good sense to stop and listen, feeling the gravity of the situation. I did my best to remember their faces for future reference.

"So we need to be on the ball and ready for whatever he's gonna throw at us. The finale is coming troops and I want all our shit locked down." I said, "When you're ready, you talk to Peirce, he'll have jobs for you to do."

Pierce looked to me quickly when he realised I'd thrown him in the deep end, but then just grinned and nodded at me. I felt another wave of gratitude that I had him on my side. When it came to business, he was by far the most reliable of my Lieutenants.

I hopped down from the arm rest, "You got this?" I checked with him one last time – I would head to the west end of the island next to check on things.

"It's no problem," he said with a nod, turning to the first Saint to approach him, grabbing his hand in a street shake. I heard them start talking as I left the loft, trotting down the stairs to my waiting bike outside, zipping up my purple and black leathers and reaching for my helmet.

My phone buzzed, and I whipped it from my pocket, checking the caller ID, raising an eyebrow when I saw the name 'Lu'.

"What?" I greeted. There was the sound of gunfire in the background, and I admittedly wasn't surprised.

"_The Ronin attacked the heritage Festival,_" the voice on the other end of the line said, "_Mr Wong won't last against Akuji!_"

I blinked – Akuji was there, so he was at least in the open. But Wong was fighting him?

"Where's Gat?" I said quickly, concern leaping into my stomach.

"_He stood to fight the Ronin as they approached,_"

I felt a small wave of relief. "Sit tight, I'll be there soon," I said, quickly turning and racing back up the steps, shoving past a small handful of Saints who were jogging off to whatever task Peirce had set them on. That was fine – I had more than enough soldiers ready to go.

I ran down the hall, feeling myself getting geared up, and slammed the door open to the loft, moving for the nearest table and jumping up onto it. I whipped out the pistol from it's holster, index finger curling around the trigger again and I fired it into the ceiling, a chunk of plaster crashing to the floor. Everyone jolted and looked at me, Peirce confused.

"Boss, w-"

"Scratch what I just said!" I shouted out to them all; fire started coursing in my veins when I spoke, and the crew looked back up to me with confusion, "Akuji's made his move. The Ronin are swarming the heritage festival and Akuji is _there_. Gat's down there with no backup, so get your guns and get in your cars, we are taking those Ronin fucks apart NOW!"

I jumped from the table, not feeling there was enough time to elaborate. I didn't need to; behind me there was a mass of movement as the gang got their shit together, some ready to go and following me straight out the door.

* * *

><p>Johnny kicked the door of the Ronin's car closed and released a barrage of bullets through the window, tearing apart the two bangers inside. He glanced over his shoulder to where the other Ronin car had crashed, frowning; only two? It wasn't going to be that easy, was it…? he glanced around to try and spot Wong, but his attention was caught as another two Ronin cars came screaming round the corner down the board walk. No. it <em>wasn't <em>going to be that easy. Johnny steeled himself and cracked some tension out of his neck, readying himself for the fight.

* * *

><p>I hit the Nos on my bike and felt it lurch forward, the world around me becoming a violent blur as I raced forward on my custom Kenshin, weaving dangerously between cars. I could feel my heart hammering like a war drum. This was it. We would finish them here. Ahead I could see a car trundling along too slowly, taking up too much room in my lane and not giving me any space to swerve around it. I carefully pulled my pistol from its holster, discharging a single bullet into the back windshield. The car suddenly sped up as the driver panicked and it swerved onto the other side of the road, giving me plenty of room to pass.<p>

Guns. Because patience is for pussies.

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><p><strong>Tiny chapter I know, but it's only one part. ;)<strong>


	14. R: The Last Samurai, Part II

**I wrote this whole bloody thing in ONE BLOODY SITTING, including the previous chapter. Meaning I probably haven't had the time to sit there and proof read it as much as i probably should have... as always, reviews are greatly appreciated, and hope you enjoy the thrilling conclusion to the Ronin story arc!**

**PS: Ride of the Valkyries was a fun song to listen to when I was reading this.**

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><p>Johnny roared as he unloaded the bullets across the street and into anything that was yellow and moving. It was relentless; he ducked behind cover and quickly reloaded again, swearing when he was he was down to his last clip. There was a loud rattling as bullets hammered into the hot dog stand he was crouched behind. He jutted out from around the corner, unloading more bullets and cussing again as three Ronin bikes hurtled around the corner to join the fray. He quickly looked further down the pier.<p>

"Fuck!" he growled when he saw Akuji, sword in hand and facing Wong. Johnny went to turn his aim on the leader of the Ronin, finger about to squeeze the trigger, as a bullet finally found its mark on him, striking him deeply in the arm, buried into his flesh. He shouted in sudden pain, trying to lift his gun to fire on his enemies.

At the far end of the pier Akuji swung the sword hard, clearly skilled in the art, slicing open a deep gash onto Wong's leg. The old man toppled, gritting his teeth and swearing in a foreign tongue. Akuji narrowed his eyes, muttering to the man in Japanese and raising his sword. There was a sudden shot of gunfire, bullets whizzing past him and he stopped, looking up to his assailant. Lu held the smoking gun, hand shaking and aim terrible; he'd clearly never used a gun before. Akuji swore darkly in his native language, stopping when he heard a deep, ominous rumbling of engines in the distance. They didn't sound like the vehicles his soldiers used…

Johnny heard them too, teeth gritted as he pressed his hand over the wound in his arm. He looked down the esplanade, eyes widening and letting out a loud shout of laughter when he saw them. The army of royal purple cars and bikes pored, _flooded_ around the corner in unison, ploughing through the Ronin, Saints leaning out of windows to fire their weapons or slash at anyone close enough with machetes, swords or baseball bats.

And spearheading this army, this huge, unrelenting force, a single figure on a motorbike, recognisable to Johnny even with her features hidden by the helmet she wore. She swerved the bike, letting off single shots to any Ronin in her way, speeding closer to her Asian comrade and skidding to a stop, inches away from him.

The Boss pulled off her helmet, tossing her head to free her long ebony locks which caught in the wind. Around them, the huge mass of invading Saints continued to take over. Gat laughed as he got to his feet.

"You sure know how to make an entrance," he said approvingly to the smiling boss. She quickly frowned when she saw him holding his arm.

"Shit," she said, reaching out but he pulled back, tugging the silk over shirt off his shoulders, leaving him in the plain white singlet.

"It's fine. Flesh wound." He said, twisting the purple fabric to create a make-shift bandage. The Boss grabbed it hand began wrapping it around the wound, frowning.

"Sorry I wasn't here sooner-" she said with exasperation. Gat laughed.

"You kidding?" he said, holding out his arm to her and slinging the strap of his empty rifle over his shoulder, "I don't think you could have got here faster if you _teleported_. Not to mention bringing enough of the crew to invade a small country with."

The Boss grinned, tying the dressing off tightly.

"Where's Akuji?" she asked, back to business. Gat nodded down the esplanade to where the man was running down the pier, headed for the junk boats and chased by a limping man she recognised as Lu, Wong's translator. There was a brilliant explosion on one of the boats, what looked like a firework had involuntarily gone off, blowing a fiery hole out the side of one of them.

Wong was on the ground of the esplanade, holding his leg and shouting after the retreating Akuji.

"C'mon," the boss ordered, Gat getting astride the bike behind her, he wrapped his uninjured arm around her waist to hold on in the short burst down the pier. She quickly skidded to a stop next to Mr. Wong, who began speaking to her rapidly in Cantonese.

"Gat, can you get Wong out of here?" she said. Gat grimaced,

"Boss, you sure about going after Akuji by yourself?' he said quickly. He didn't want to be stuck there babysitting Wong; his priority was to _her_ safety before this relative stranger's, but seeing as she was the 'Boss' he couldn't really undermine her orders. The Boss looked to the smoking boats, her face suddenly ashen and she swallowed.

"I'll be fine Johnny." She said; Gat noticed her eyes involuntarily flicker to his arm with concern, and he got where she was coming from. Johnny frowned as they both slid off the bike, the Boss loading her rifle, handing Gat her spare ammo. Johnny helped Wong up, slinging the man's arm over his good shoulder.

"Be careful," was all he said to her. She turned, and he thought he could hear her growl something about 'fucking boats' as she charged down the steps and onto the pier, chasing down the most feared man in Japan.

* * *

><p>I coughed as I ran through the junk boats; there was smoke enveloping them; the Ronin had actually been lighting the fires. I unloaded my rifle and took out whatever resistance I found, covering my nose with my sleeve and trying to peer through the thick black cloud for any sign of Lu or Akuji. The three old boats were linked only by wooden planks, and it took some navigating before I finally made it to the last boat. The fires were spreading devouring the wooden boats alive – something behind me popped and exploded into fire and I actually yelped.<p>

I had a thing about burning, exploding boats, as you could well imagine. And being on a set of flaming boats with unknown amounts of fireworks on board was doing nothing to comfort me.

_Akuji_ I reminded myself.

I searched the bottom half of the boat first; only an idiot would go _up_ when they were trapped on a burning, floating pile of wood. But there was no sign of them on the lower levels.

I groaned when I realised that idiot would have to be me.

I wove up the stairs, bursting onto the hot, flaming deck just in time to see Akuji dispatch Lu, slashing a huge, deep gash into his chest. Lu's body crumpled, blood pooling around him, hissing as it met with the fire. I growled at Akuji through the thick fire and smoke around us; high about the sails and mast of the boat began to light, cracking and dropping burning fabric around us. I turned the nose of my rifle to him and squeezed the trigger, trying to blink the smoke and grit from my eyes.

My rifle dismally discharged one last bullet before I realised it was empty, and that single bullet had bloody well missed, thunking into the wooden post next to Akuji. I swallowed unhappily, even more so when I remembered I'd given all my spare ammo to Gat. I slung my rifle off my shoulders and dropped it – looks like I'd be doing this the old fashioned way.

It must have been an idiot day for me.

Akuji muttered something at me in Japanese, kicking Lu's stolen sword over to me. I glanced down to it; I hadn't been keeping up with any sword play since Jyunichi, but if slicing up this old man was what I had to do, then it was what I had to do. I picked up the sword, glaring at the old man. how tough could he be?

"I hope you put up a better fight than Shogo," I quipped, then ran at him, swinging sharply. He dodged it, and I realised my fatal last words; years of training and experience showed as he curled the sword around on me. He was talented, I'd give him that.

But he was also an old, feeble man. And without strength and speed, his skills couldn't really be applied. I blocked his attacks, quickly on the back foot, before I managed to lock his sword down under mine, and kicked sharply into his shin, lurching my skull forward to head butt him. The old man fell backwards, and I lifted the sword to swing it at him, believing victory was actually in my hands.

He moved quickly then, swinging his own blade, the tip slicing open my hand and sending my weapon flying over the edge of the boat into the water. I grabbed my hand tightly. The thick flesh under my little finger had a deep laceration, bleeding profusely. That moment of distracting was enough for him to land a kick into my knee – the impact was been weak, but the spot he'd expertly aimed for was a vulnerable point causing me to yell in pain, my knee bending sharply a way it wasn't supposed to and I stumbled backwards, tripping over Lu's cadaver on the blood-slicked boards, landing heavily on my butt.

"You didn't really think you could defeat me?" Akuji sneered through his thick accent. I smirked. It was a familiar feeling, edging backwards from the man advancing with the sword, thinking of where I could possibly get my hands on a weapon. But this time, my gun wasn't across the room – it was strapped to my thigh. And he obviously thought I was going to face him like some honourable samurai warrior rather than someone who fought with common sense.

"Nope." I replied, whipping the gun out and shooting him in the chest. He cried out and fell to the ground, dropping his sword. "I'm gonna cheat." I finished with a smile, uneasily getting up, wincing at the pain in my knee and re-gripping my gun, hand shaking from the pain on my palm I was trying to ignore. Akuji looked up to me, eyes narrowed hatefully.

"Finish it." He said. I raised an eyebrow, looking to his sword on the ground and edged a toe under it, kicking it up like a toy and catching the hilt in my left hand. Akuji snarled at me even more so when I did. I kept the gun trained on him, walking carefully around to his back. I felt cold as I looked at him. I didn't want this quick and quiet. Not for him.

I kicked him down harshly onto the floor boards, gritting my teeth against the sharp pain that shot up from my injured knee, drawing back the sword and stabbing it down into his back, the metal crunching and grating as it crushed its way through his spine and between the vertebrae. Akuji screamed, the lower half of his body going limp. I pushed harder again till I felt the blade stick into the wood below. I snarled at Akuji, stepping out of the way as piss began to spread through his pants and over the floor boards. The added sting of humiliation to his death made me want to share the moment.

I slipped my gun away into the holster and pulled out my phone, pressing the speed dial for Gat, putting the phone to my ear.

"_Boss! You ok?_" he said quickly down the line. I felt myself nodding.

"Yeah, I'm good Johnny. Could you put Wong on the phone?" I asked.

"_Sure thing Boss, hold on…_" There was the sound of rummaging and Wong's tired voice replied. I smiled a little to myself.

"Wong, I want you to hear something," I said, crouching and putting the phone to Akuji's mouth. The old man glared at me with more hate than I'd ever seen and kept his jaw tightly shut. It was almost fascinating to watch; I found myself relishing his despising me, knowing he'd been defeated by me as my fingers wrapped around the hilt of the blade. I began slowly winding and twisting it, feeling the bones grinding again against the steel.

"C'mon, be a good sport," I cooed, grinning at his scream. Eventually I stopped, standing and putting the phone back to my ear.

"You hear that Wong?" I said. The man on the other end actually deigned to speak to me in English.

"_Yes – I owe you a debt of gratitude – you are truly an angel of death_" he said stiffly. I nodded, wondering if I liked the moniker. Hmn… a little cliché.

"You're welcome," I acknowledged, "Thanks." I clicked the phone off and slipped it back into my pocket. Above me, the flames lurched higher into the twilight sky, the mast of the ship cracking, seconds away from collapse. I had no interest on being stuck on another exploding ship any longer and made my way to the hand railings. Behind me, Akuji spat out hatefully.

"When I escape," he croaked, "The _world_ will not be big enough for you to hide in."

I raised an eyebrow, throwing a comment over my shoulder.

"Luckily for me, you're doing to burn to death in a few minutes," I said, blasé. I climbed slowly up onto the railing, breathing in the night air, and for a while, that hole in my chest closed up, and I felt invigorated. I looked over my shoulder to the pathetic old man splayed out.

"Your son should have never fucked with my friends." I said darkly as the burning mast finally snapped and began to fall, stabbing down into the boat and causing a backlash of fire to erupt from the centre of it. I leapt from the railings into the cold water of the bay, feeling it wash away all the sweat and soot that lacquered my skin.

* * *

><p>Having left Wong with a few other Saints, Johnny had gotten down from the esplanade onto the concrete docks and was scanning the burning boats, not realising his hands shook a little as he saw them begin to collapse in on themselves – each time they did there was a loud explosion of fireworks, some shooting out and exploding in a beautiful, brilliant light, others simply blowing the boats and the docks apart and erupting into fire, stopping him from being able to get to them. Peirce came jogging up behind him.<p>

"Yo! Gat! Get back man!" he said, trying to call him back from the danger zone, "Wait… Where's the Boss?" he continued worriedly, eyes following Johnny's line of sight.

"C'mon," Gat said, starting at a jog down the concrete dock till he found a jetty that wasn't yet ablaze, running along it – it was the closest either of them could get.

"Shit man," Pierce said in amazement as he looked at the boats – it might have been sublime had they time to take it all in, the roaring red and orange flames licking up into the indigo sky, reflecting off the inky black waters, cracking with fireworks. A beautiful, deadly mess. Both men concentrated then on the water, hunting for any sign of life.

"C'mon Boss, where are you?" Johnny muttered. Peirce quickly slapped him on the shoulder, pointing and running further down the dock, Johnny quickly trailing him.

"There!" Pierce was shouting – in the distance, down by the third boat, a small figure was splashing in the water, trying to swim away. There was an awkward struggle for a moment as he saw her pull off her biker jacket, bared arms now pulling through the water feebly.

"Is she hurt?" Peirce said, narrowing his eyes through the darkness. Behind her there was another explosion low on the boat, sending a wave of water rolling over the Boss' head. She broke the surface again and spluttered, trying to swim harder. Gat swore and kicked off his shoes and threw his glasses from his face, drawing back his arms and diving blindly into the water.

"Shit!" Pierce said, pulling the hat off his head, trying to call out to Gat, who was attempting to swim but the injury on his arm slowing his progress. "God dammit…" he muttered, pulling off his shirt and kicking off his shoes, diving in after Gat and the Boss.

* * *

><p>Panic was beginning to flood me – I kept trying to tell myself it was irrational, that I just had to stay focused, keep swimming, I'd be fine and make it to the docks in no time – but another wave rolled over my head, smothering me as I tried to breathe and filling my mouth with salt water.<p>

Some people had snakes, some people had spiders. Though I despised admitting it, my fear was drowning.

I tried to use my arms to pull myself through the water, kicking with only one leg, the other shooting pain up my body whenever I tried to use it – usually pain wouldn't bother me but now it was adding to my anxiety and I knew I had to try and keep a level head. I was trying desperately not to think of being trapped in that trunk with Lin, the water rushing in around us. I didn't want to look at the fire over the water, too much like the night back on the boat with Hughes, the explosion that put me into a coma.

"Boss!"

I nearly sobbed with relief; I heard his voice before I saw Johnny, swimming through the water towards me. My hands scrambled for him, heart pounding. He treaded water and I clung to his singlet, trying to catch my breath, feeling my anxiety washing away with the current.

"You ok?" he asked quickly. I nodded.

"My knee's fucked, but aside from that I'm good." I declared; saying the words helped me believe it. "You arm-?"

"It's nothing," he said quickly. There was another splashing nearby and a figure came swimming strongly through the water.

"Pierce?" I spluttered. He pulled up to tread water.

"Well I was gonna look like an asshole if _I_ didn't jump in too." He said. I heard Johnny laugh next to me and felt more relief. "Okay well, can we get the fuck out of here before the sharks show up?" Pierce said quickly. I just nodded. Pierce grabbed the front of my shirt and started pulling me along in a strong side stroke, Johnny swimming along beside me as I attempted to swim for myself. I was too relieved at this point to let my pride be hurt by the help. We finally made it to the jetty, all exhausted, crawling up on to the worn boards and flopping down on them, breathing heavily. I rolled over, looking up at the few stars that could be seen through the thick plumes of smoke, then slowly sat up, the men either side of me following suit. I looked back to the blazing ships, one half submerged as it burned. I breathed heavily, watching the last one, where Akuji was slowly burning. I felt a smile on my mouth, the pure insanity of the day wrapping around me.

It was over. The Ronin were done.

I put my uninjured hand to my mouth and felt a laugh bubble up from somewhere deep in my chest. I glanced either side of me; Peirce was grinning, admiring the spectacular sight before us, and Johnny was shaking his head incredulously.

"What you laughing at?" he asked with a broad smile. I breathed heavily, and waved a hand to the ships.

"We fucking did it," I said breathlessly.

* * *

><p><strong>So, how did I do?<strong>


	15. B: L'Art Moderne

**Trying this again... somewhat short chapter, the next is shaping up to be a big one.**

* * *

><p>I stretched out the sofa in the hideout, yawning deeply as I doodled on a sketch pad. I blinked tired eyes and checked the time – quarter past eleven… Frustrated, I flipped my clicker-pencil around and erased a few lines, carefully re-doing the image. Drawing was a slow process with a bandaged hand, but I was stubborn as I'd ever been.<p>

Four days. Four days since the Ronin had been obliterated from Stilwater, and still I'd heard nothing from Maero.

I was pissed off about it too; we'd pretty much left them alone since I'd met with Maero and his little bitch Jessica because ultimately, I was still harbouring hopes that we could come to an arrangement. Going to war with any gang was costly in more ways than one and we still had the Samedi to deal with.

So I'd decided instead on sending Maero a little note to give him a last chance before we went to take them apart.

I stuck the rubber end of the pencil into my mouth thoughtfully as I studied the picture, then shook my head and flipped the paper over to a fresh page. Needed something more threatening… I clicked the pencil a few times to get new lead and started a rough sketch.

"Whatchya drawing?" Shaundi drawled; she was kneeling at the coffee table, carefully weighing out grams of white powder and slipping them into little bags.

"Just… something for the Brotherhood." I shrugged, shifting and frowning as I moved my bandaged knee. I'd had it looked at and turned out only to be a bad sprain, but it still was annoying to walk on. I glanced at her. "Shouldn't you have someone doing that _for_ you?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. Shaundi smiled and shook her head.

"Boss, you should know better than I do that sometimes, it's nice to get your hands dirty." She said, "Besides, most of these are party favours for this weekend."

I nodded and looked back to my sketch pad, feeling a good deal of satisfaction at the image I was conjuring.

"You uh, wanna come?" Shaundi continued, "To the party?" I gave her a sidewards glance that spelled No. She sighed, "C'mon, it's only gonna be a small thing. You've been cooped up in here for ages, you really need to get out and socialise more, have some fun."

"I have fun." I declared haughtily, "I went to a bachelor party a few weeks ago."

Shaundi gave me an affectionate grin, "Shooting up a Ronin buck's night does not constitute actually going out." She said. I rolled my eyes at her.

"Yeah, but I had fun," I said with a wry smile. "…How you doin' with the Samedi?" I asked to inelegantly change the subject. She pouted and shrugged.

"It's weird – I swear we've undercut most of the drug market from them but… I dunno. They're still pushing and don't seem to care. I think they might have something we don't."

"And you're going to find out what it is," I said, making it clear this was not a question or request. She nodded mutely and then spilled a half gram of powder onto her wrist, putting it to her nose and snorting sharply.

"Shaundi!" I chided.

She sniffed and wiped the dregs from her nostril, gazing up with innocent eyes, "…What?"

I shook my head, pushing myself up from the sofa and getting to my feet, glancing at the final image on my sketch pad. I started making my way up the stairs, pulling out my phone.

"At least _sell_ some of it," I threw over my shoulder to her as I mashed the speed dial for Carlos.

* * *

><p>I dropped the duffle full of spray cans to the ground – we were deep in Brotherhood territory, and it was the dead of night. Somewhere in the distance a siren wailed, though that was nothing out of the ordinary for this town. It was my kind of area; a little grungy, raw, volatile. It felt organic to me; looking at what Ultor had done to the Row made me sick. I mean, there was progress, sure, but it was so damn clinical. Glass everywhere, an entire neighbourhood of human filing cabinets and modular furniture, surrounded by ugly water features and fake trees. <em>Urgh<em>.

I had brought Carlos with me – this was a big project and needed to be done by the morning, so I took him along for help.

"Get the white cans first for background," I said rummaging through the bag and finding the large cans, tossing two to him. He wordlessly began to rattle the sprays, misting the wall with the paint.

"Go back to the reference sketch if you need to," I continued, "Then I'll get started on the body. The words get done last."

"I never knew you were so artistic Boss," He said. I searched his tone for sarcasm but there was none. I shrugged.

"Not as much as I used to be. Time was, half this city was covered in my tags," I bragged a little. The acrid scent of the spray cans began filling the air, and I began to notice just how much I'd missed this, the creating process. Eventually the backing was done; Carlos checked his copy of the picture and grabbed lilac paints from the bag, I grabbed a Ronin yellow.

"Your drawings are really good," Carlos encouraged in earnest, "I don't know why you don't paint more. Did you do art in high school?"

I blinked at this and reached into the bag for another spray can, duel-wielding now as I worked, "Yeah." I replied shortly.

"What high school did you go to?" he continued, and I noticed he was shooting me a sidewards glance, eyebrow raised.

"Oh no, no no," I warned, rattling the can to get the paint flowing again, "Don't even try."

"Okay, so no prying about the past," he said, sounding disappointed, "But… what about your tattoos?"

I stuck my tongue between my teeth as I carefully curved the paint onto the wall, "What about them?"

"Well, they're not past, they're present." He said with a smile, "Did you draw any of them yourself?" I raised an eyebrow at him. No one had really been interested in me like that before.

"Yeah, most of them actually," I replied.

"So what's the story with the one on your back?" he asked. I shrugged, the mental image of the black curves design on the small of my back in my minds eye. It had been pretty enough but parts of his were rippled now with a burn. I liked the dark wings that stretched from the centre of my back over my shoulders, one or two feathers on my upper arms.

"I got the wings over my shoulders during a little goth phase," I said with a half laugh.

"_Phase_?" Carlos questioned dryly.

"Shut up. I like them." I said curtly, "…The tramp stamp was just a thing I got when I was seventeen. You know, the obligatory stupid decision. I was so excited to be getting a tattoo I didn't really care what and thought it looked sexy so, voila."

I heard Carlos chuckle "Could have been worse. You could have gotten a barcode. But it still is pretty sexy." He admitted. I felt my eyes roll, then shuddered as a short cold breeze whipped by us.

I held out my arm next, pointing to a Chinese symbol on the inside of my left forearm which was starting to be spattered with paint, "That says 'Lin'. She was a friend of mine who was killed by the Rollerz…"

Carlos nodded. There was a moment of easy silence, and then Carlos stepped back from the paint.

"Sorry Boss, what next?" he asked, indicating to the large blotch of purple. I put a thumb to my chin and tilted my head.

"Just tag the message over there, I'll take the rest from here," I said. Carlos nodded, grabbing one can of black spray paint, one of white and began writing the message next to the large artwork that I began adding the finishing touches to.

"And, what about the tiger up your ankle?" he asked. I stuck out my foot, looking to the tribal tattoo that snuck its way around the front lower half of my leg. One of the tiger's claws had been warped by the edge of a scar. I bit my lower lip slightly feeling maudlin.

"Ah. Well, 'tiger' was a nickname my dad had for me when I was a kid." I admitted.

"Ohh…" Carlos said sagely, pausing in his work and eyes narrowing at me, "… Catherine?"

I blinked and shot him a look as I carefully filled in the wall with paint, "_What?_"

He chuckled, shaking his head and rattling the spray can, "I dunno. Catherine. Cat. Tiger. I thought maybe the name was derivative."

"Yeah, it is, but you're pretty far off the mark there." I said, unable to wipe the smile from my face. Carlos nodded sharply, studying me carefully.

"Okay then… T… Tracey? No…? Ti… Tye? Tia?"

"Nope, nope and nope."

"Tiger… what like Tiger Lilly?" he tried.

"… No."

"You hesitated," he said hastily.

"Yeah but I didn't lie." I responded as swiftly, whipping out a can of blood red and painting with a lot more vigour.

"Lilly?" he asked quickly. I twisted my lips and shook my head.

"I'm not a _flower_ Carlos." I said coolly, taking out a thick black paint-pen and inking the outlines.

"… Rumplestilskin?"

I actually snorted when I laughed at that one. Carlos was just grinning back at me, eyes shining.

"C'mon Boss,"

"Martha Fucking Washington." I said bluntly, wanting the subject dropped.

"_Okay_, no more prying about the _name_," he said kindly. But I blinked with some surprise when his fingertips touched my neck,

"That one is pretty obvious," he said, touching the fleur-de-lis on my neck. I jolted – his fingers were like ice, "Sorry Boss," he said quickly snapping his hand away and running it over his skull cap.

I shook my head, rubbing the cool spot on my skin where Carlos had touched me. "Gat took me to get that when I first joined the Saints," I said proudly. Carlos nodded. I indicated to his shoulder.

"So what about you? What are those two for?" I said.

Carlos looked to his arm, smiling sheepishly, "Well, the barbed wire arm band is kind of like your back tattoo," he said, "I got it when I was sixteen, thought it looked cool… and now-"

"You're stuck with a barbed wire armband," I smiled, nodding sagely. He chuckled in return.

"Yeah. The prayer is for my brother," he said, looking at the clasped hands over his shoulder, "He had one like it."

I nodded, stepping back and put my hands on my hips, looking at the wall, then to Carlos.

"I'm sorry for your brother," I said quietly, "He sounded like a great guy."

He gave me another one of those grateful smiles, stepping backwards till he was in line with me, admiring our work. I shivered as a small breeze kicked up – it was surprisingly cool and I instinctively wrapped my arms around my torso – beside me Carlos also shivered.

"I guess the heat wave finally broke," I said with relief; it had been a shocker of a Summer. Carlos smiled broadly at me.

"Good. I like the Fall," he said. Standing back to admire our work, he waved a hand to the almost mural; "You really are good at this. You should paint more often." I felt myself smiling.

"Yeah. Feels good to be creating something for once," I said sarcastically and shoved a lock of hair from my forehead. I heard Carlos chuckle and shot him a look; he was grinning at me and indicated to his forehead.

"You got some paint-" he said. I frowned and rubbed aggressively at my forehead, blinking at him. He just laughed a little more and shook his head.

"Phssh." I said, waving my hand. Paint on my face was the least of my worries. I looked back up to my painting; I knew this picture wouldn't last, it'd be defiled by the Brotherhood soon enough. But maybe it'd give Maero just enough to think about. Maybe he'd come to his senses. Maybe I wouldn't have to destroy the Brotherhood.

Maybe.

* * *

><p>Donnie drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, humming to the tune on the radio as he rounded the corner to his garage – he jolted, however, when he saw the huge garage door, now covered in graffiti. He pulled into the lot at the front, stepping out of his car and running a hand through his hair.<p>

"The _fuck_?"

The whole door had been covered, a picture of a Ronin corpse with a katana through his chest dominating the space, brilliant red blood spatter painted around it threateningly. Large, elaborate purple lettering spelling SAINTS devoured the rest of the door.

Donnie's hand shook and he took out his cell and snapped a photo, quickly dialling Maero's number and he sent the image. Words were tagged onto the wall next to it in black, and Donnie blinked when he read them, a little confused as to their meaning.

"2O PERCENT? TRY AGAIN."

* * *

><p><strong>And now to work on the next chapter... feeling a bit nervous about it actually, it currently has about three different endings and I'm STILL deciding on which one to go with.<strong>


	16. This Party Sucks

**Wow… this was an interesting chapter to write. As I mentioned before there were several endings to it, but I felt this one progressed the story more.**

* * *

><p>I turned my gaze out the car window and scowled as we pulled into the driveway; Shaundi's house was pumping and flooded with people. I turned my disgruntled look back to her.<p>

"You said it would only be a few people at this thing." I growled. I _hate_ parties. Shaundi rolled her eyes to me.

"C'mon Boss, just duck your head in for a moment." She implored, "The crew wanted to blow off some steam after the whole Ronin thing; it'd be good for them to see you there."

I looked back to the house. Only about half the people there were actually clad in purple. But Shaundi had pressed the right button by appealing to my dutiful side and I begrudgingly drew a breath and pushed the car door open, stepping out onto the drive.

Inside the house, the party was already in full swing. People were dancing and drinking, some small groups curled up in corners racking up. As we entered some Saints turned and saw us, raising their glasses and cheering a greeting. I was barely three steps into the room and someone rushed up to me, popping the cap off two long necks and handing them to me and Shaundi. I raised an eyebrow at her and she smiled and shrugged, moving past me and into the living room.

I cringed about me, quickly chugging down about half the beer to release the tension that had suddenly crawled up my neck – dammit I hated parties… I quickly followed Shaundi, heaving a sigh of relief when I saw a familiar face reclined on a sofa, casually sipping on a scotch, the epitome of relaxation and ease.

"Hey Johnny," I greeted, flopping down next to him and leaning a little against his arm with relief. He just chuckled and clinked his glass against my beer.

"Hey there Boss," he said lazily, "Didn't think this'd be your scene."

I cocked an eyebrow at him, "You know it isn't." I said. His smile just broadened. "And not usually yours either," I stitched on to the end. Johnny shrugged his shoulders.

"Shaundi said it was gonna be a small thing," he purred, throwing her a glance. She was already on the lap of her current boyfriend, who was offering her something in a pipe. She took a curious toke, breathed out the smoke and raised her eyebrows. I blinked at her reaction; hard to think there was a drug on the planet Shaundi hadn't tried yet. Gat nudged me.

"Heard about your paint job with Carlos." He said. I stuck my chin out proudly, "Gotta say Boss, I was expecting something involving a few more explosions." He teased.

"Sorry to disappoint," I grinned, "But there's still a chance Maero will change his mind, and he mentioned a while ago that he and the Brotherhood were coming in to something big. I'm just watching my step at the moment."

Gat exhaled a laugh, "_Jesus_, what happened to you? Anyone would think you were getting older and wiser."

I nudged him back and polished off my beer – Johnny waved to a Saint and indicated to me, and within a few moments a new cold brew was in my hand.

Yeah, leadership had its advantages.

* * *

><p>An hour or so later I stumbled a little as I stepped out of the bathroom and meandered my way back down the hall past the line. The party wasn't turning out to be so bad; not that I'd done anything other than curl up on the couch next to Gat, enjoying the music, people watching and trying to hear each other over the din. But as I walked back out into the living room I slowed, my breath catching as a familiar few bars strummed out of the stereo speakers, and people began to cheer and dance with more gusto as "<em>Good Girl Bad Girl<em>" began thumping through the crowd.

Soon the instrumental intro gave way to Aisha's gutsy voice.

I'd barely listened to her music since her death… and hearing her now was a haunting experience; all around me the girls were singing the number one hit loudly and started dancing provocatively against anything they could find, most of the guys either getting into it or stepping back to admire the girls. I looked to the sofa where we'd been sitting but it was taken over now by strangers, making me blink and search the crowd for Johnny. I only just caught sight of him as he disappeared into another room. I bit my lip and wove my way through the bumping, grinding crowd after him, rounding the corner – he'd tucked himself into a dark study, leant against the desk and was lighting a cigarette. He didn't look at me as I took a step into the room; his figure was a dark silhouette against the moonlit window behind him, face only briefly illuminated by the flame before it snapped off. He drew a deep drag and released the smoke, shoulders hunched.

"Hey," I greeted quietly, "You uh… you want me to get them to turn it off?" I asked. He only took another drag of his cigarette, exhaling slowly and shook his head.

"It's no problem Boss." He finally replied. I went to take another step in to the room but he just held up his hand quickly.

"Just… leave me alone." He said quietly. He hadn't meant it to sound so hard, I knew that, but it still bruised. I nodded and stepped out of the room.

"Come find me later, ok?" I said steadily, frowning. He just drew another breath through the cigarette and nodded, flicking ash onto the carpet carelessly. I gently tugged the door halfway closed for him and walked back out into the party, frowning at the floor and leant against the wall. The song was sexy and funky and clashed with the feelings it was inspiring in me. I was glad though that it wasn't one of her beautiful ballads – I didn't know how I'd react if I heard one. The people were all joined in for the chorus and I actually felt myself smile when I finally looked around to them. They were so happy, so free and unified, singing and dancing to her song, hands thrown up in the air. I think Eesh would have been happy to see that.

I couldn't bring myself to join them; I wasn't much of a dancer anyway. I started for the kitchen instead, hunting through the fridge for a beer and snapping the top off, taking a long drink, enjoying the relative quiet of the kitchen. In the living room, the music reached its crescendo and everyone cheered out the last few lyrics in unison, and beneath that, Aisha's voice faded away, and vanished. I quickly took another drink of my beer, shivering. Another reason to hate parties. The music could sometimes be a real downer.

A few people came and went as I leant against the sink, quietly marinating myself in grog. Most of them were already wasted and ignored me, I was relieved to find – it was a weird contradiction in me that had been pointed out several times before. After rising through the Saints I became addicted to the status and power that came with it; not so much _within_ the gang, but seeing how others reacted to me, the liberation of knowing that I didn't have to take shit from anyone. Weirdly, parties and gathering like this always made me shy from the spotlight. A few of the Saints would greet me or raise a glass, polite enough to leave me alone when they sensed what mood I was in. There was a girl hunched over a chopping board a little further down who only smiled at me as she continued to slice up lemons, sticking them in a bowl next to a salt shaker.

But I was becoming strangely aware of other's reactions, mostly strippers or people who weren't in the gang. They would pause and whisper things to each other when they saw me – when I looked at them they quietly looked away. I frowned as I noticed this more and more, someone actually pointing at me and whispering to their friend, _while staring straight at me_. Like I was some animal in the zoo or didn't know they were there. I glared at them, fed up.

"Got something you wanna say bitch?" I said, straightening up off the counter, feeling my shoulders move back and my chest puff out. The girl gasped and quickly grabbed her friend's arm, running from the kitchen. I slumped back down, draining the last few dregs of my beer and sighing, dropping the bottle into the sink.

"You want me to get you another one _nena_?"

I snapped my eyes up at the familiar voice – Carlos had stepped into the kitchen and was moving to the fridge, smiling at me and his accent thick. Interesting bit of math – the severity of Carlos' accent is directly proportional to how much he's had to drink. I nodded mutely and he pulled out two beers, popping the caps off and handing me one.

"Glad to see you're having such a good time," he said sarcastically. My shoulders shrugged with a silent laugh and I poured a little of the drink down my throat.

"I'm not a party person." I said. I heard him chuckle at that.

"Yeah, I noticed. So did those two girls." He took a swig of his drink and continued when I didn't respond. "Where's Johnny?"

I paused before answering. Eventually I shrugged, "Wandered off somewhere." I said coolly. I felt Carlos turn a concerned gaze onto me but I did my best to ignore it. I sometimes got the feeling that he could see right through my skin; it was unnerving. I sighed, glancing to the girl as she wiped her hands on her jeans, finished with the lemons scooping about half into a bowl and walking off. I raised an eyebrow at the slices that were left.

Well. It was a party, wasn't it?

* * *

><p>"So, Dex and I're sittin' there in th' car looking at this <em>huge<em> fuckin' plane crash," I slurred, licking a spill of salt from my hand, Carlos mimicking me, "And then this little Carnales sports car comes _screaming_ down th' runway to us and skids to a stop, and this chick gets out, she's fuckin' terrified, turns out she's Angelo's girlfriend or something and she was gonna leave with him." I said, grinning, Carlos hanging on my words with laughing eyes. We threw back another shot of the acrid alcohol and I coughed, "Jesus… is this no brand tequila?" I pressed a slice of lemon between my lips, drawing out the sour juice to wash away the alcohol, spitting a seed down onto the plate and gave a shudder as the alcohol burned its way to my stomach, "Anyway. Dex gets out and he starts shaking her down, cos she's got this little bag with her. And Dex is all, 'is it drugs? Guns? Money?' and-" I had to pause to giggle, "He pulls out these fucking _shoes_. He's _so_ pissed at her and she's all, 'They're the new Spring line!', and I got up and said," I coughed with a laugh, shaking my head at the memory, "_Bitch, those are last season's fall collection!_'" Carlos' head thumped onto the table as he collapsed with laughter. I indulged my self deprecation, "Shit, I know _nothing_ about shoes right, but I was looking at those ones and they looked _just like_ the one's Eesh lent me once, and I just _said_ it… I swear, the look on Dex's face, he was just-"

I tried to mimic the expression to a near hysterical, rather drunk Carlos, but ended up bursting out laughing myself. The world was beginning to swirl around me, the shots Carlos and I had been throwing back finally catching up to me.

"_Dos mio nena,_" he said, shaking his head. I laughed.

"Carlos! I _tolds_ you, nomoreSpanish, I dunno know wha you're sayin'." I said, shaking my head. His accent had escalated from thick right into straight out foreign.

"Sorry Boss," he said with a chuckle. A sudden thin arm was over my shoulder and I looked over to see a rather drunk Shaundi hanging off me, a guy not much taller than her nuzzling into her neck.

"What we doing?" she said, her grin from ear to ear.

"T'killa," Carlos responded, and she squealed, throwing her hands up in the air. This girl could drink a college football team under the table so I had to wonder at how much she'd had.

"BODY SHOTS!" she suddenly shouted, flopping down on her back on the middle of the counter. Carlos and I flinched back, scraping the lemon slices and salt out of the way as Shaundi's current boyfriend reached for the tequila, pushing up her top and pouring a generous amount over her stomach.

The guy smiled at me, "S'cuse me," he said, grabbing the salt and a slice of lemon, sticking the wedge into her grinning mouth and sprinkling salt all over her neck sliding up along the counter and proceeding to lick, sip and suck my lieutenant. Such a proud moment for me. I glanced at Carlos next to me and raised an eyebrow – a small crowd was fast gathering around us and I grouched, slowly getting up from my chair.

"C'mon, we can go outside," I said, stumbling a little and trying to remember how many shots we'd done. Then in the background, a familiar musical intro – Carlos grabbed my arm, laughing.

"_Me encanta esta canción!_" he said, attempting to drag me towards the living room and I recognised The Killers _Mr Brightside_ was playing. I was never hugely partial to the band, less so when I realised Carlos had taken my hands and was swaying to the beat as he pulled me closer to where people were dancing.

"Whoaahhh no," I said, shaking my tipsy head, "I don't dance,"

Carlos looked at me like I'd shot him. "What? C'mon _nena_ don't be mean, have some fun!" he said, dragging me further towards the crowd, smiling. I rolled my eyes.

"What's _nena_?" I said loudly over the noise as he dragged me onto the makeshift dance floor, which was really just the space where the couches had been pushed up against the wall and the coffee table flipped over. He didn't respond to my question, just smiled, holding my hands and swaying slightly, trying to get me moving. I rolled my eyes, the alcohol in my system finally beginning to liberate my inhibitions a little, and I swayed with him, realising I really didn't mind this song at all.

"You'rea good match forme," he said loudly, leaning in to be heard over the music. I raised a quizzical eyebrow at him, "Your height," he continued and I nodded, "it's good fordancing."

I nodded vaguely, narrowing my eyes at him. He was maybe only two inches taller than me, but he was right – he was comfortable for dancing with. He lifted my hand and turned me in a twirl and I shook my head incredulously, having to laugh as he tried to sing along to the music. He sounded like Enrique Iglesias if he never learned English properly.

"_I just can't look, it's killing meeee, and tay-king con-trol,"_ he twittered to me with a grin.

I laughed, feeling my body moving with more enthusiasm, and Carlos lifted my left hand to his shoulder, his right moving politely on my waist, not too high or low. As we turned, enjoying the music, I looked through the crowd – more hookers and strippers were sprouting, seemingly out of thin air (or maybe it was just that more people were beginning to couple up for the night), my attention caught when I spied Johnny – he was glancing around and leaned unsteadily against a wall, a half empty bottle of spirits in one hand, glaring, searching through the crowd and stopping when our eyes met. His expression flittered to relief but only momentarily. I remembered before when I told him to come find me when he was ready, and slowed uncertainly in the dance. I raised my eyebrows to him, feeling my usually stoic features melt with the alcohol in my blood to an expression of pure concern, and for a moment we just about had a telepathic conversation. He pulled a sharp frown then quickly raised his hands, shaking his head no and indicating to Carlos, encouraging me to keep dancing. I flinched, uncertain; if he wasn't having a good time I didn't want him to be alone. He lifted the bottle to me reassuringly, taking a deep swing and nodding, attempting a smile. I pulled a look – only if he was sure.

Carlos nudged me then looked over his shoulder to Johnny, and for a moment they exchanged a glance. To my best recollection, it for some reason wasn't too friendly. Johnny turned, winding through the house and disappearing. Carlos nudged me again.

"You ok?" he asked with concern. I didn't nod right away.

"Just… alil' worried bout him," I said while I watched the space where Johnny had disappeared. Carlos just nodded, and I was vaguely aware he'd tugged me closer.

"You can be really kind," he said carefully, and I burst out laughing, incredulous. Carlos feigned a hurt look. "M' serious Boss!" he insisted, and I just nudged him back.

"Nu uh. Don't you be sayin' shit like that to _anyone_." I insisted with a wry smile. Carlos just shook his head.

"_Tienes una sonrisa muy hermosa._" He said, grinning at me, cheeks flushed from the tequila and heat of the dance floor.

"Again Carlos, I don'speak Mexican," I said, shaking my head into his shoulder.

"Spanish,"

"Whatever."

Carlos laughed and shook his head at me. "Fuckin' cracker," he teased quickly with a broad, affectionate grin and I felt my jaw drop, incredulous at his gall. I wanted to shoot something back, but could only laugh with him.

The song reached its climax, the last instrumental piece tiring itself out. As the song ended I edged back from Carlos a little, and noticed a slightly disappointed look in his eyes.

"Thanks," I said, bumping a fist onto his arm playfully. He just ran a hand over his skull cap and nodded, smiling at me.

"Any time Boss," he said. I turned away from the dance floor, walking back into the kitchen, but this time he didn't follow. Shaundi was still there, cheering the small crowd on and pouring a shot of tequila into a girl's belly button, a Saint leaning forward to suck the liquid off her skin. I stumbled past them, winding through the house to try and find Gat. I poked my head outside to the smokers and asked Peirce, who was leant against the wall with a familiar girl leaning next to him.

"Dunno Boss," he said, drawing on a joint and slipping a hand around Mia's waist suggestively. Mia piped up.

"I saw Pepper giving him a lap dance before," she said, running her fingertips over Pierce's chest. I just blinked and shook my head thinking that was silly, aiming back into the house, trying to navigate my way through the crowds and hallways till I found a small second living room that was relatively deserted, save one or two stoners-

-And Johnny stretched out on the couch with a hooker pinned beneath him, both participants clothes dishevelled. His mouth was on her neck and had a hand up under her top – she had a leg around his waist and her hand hidden somewhere around his crotch while he ground against her. I stumbled backwards in shock and quickly left the room, uncertain about what I had just seen, marching through the hallways and pushing past people blindly, aiming roughly for the front door. As I pushed through the main living room I heard Carlos call out to me, confused. But I ignored him, marching out through the front door and stumbling past the few people out on the front lawn – I would have fallen flat on my face had not a strong pair of hands grabbed my under arms and caught me.

"_Nena_! What happened?" Carlos gasped, straightening me. Oh Jesus, I didn't even know. My head swam and I felt dizzy – I leant against Carlos to steady myself. His hand patted over my hair.

"_Nena-_" he tried again gently, and I irrationally shoved him off me.

"What the _fuck_ is _ne-na_?" I nearly shouted, running a hand through my hair. I wasn't mad at him. I wasn't even sure if I was mad at Johnny. I was just… mad. Confused. And increasingly nauseous. I strode towards the road, shoving hard past a girl who swore at me, the noise of the party fading behind me as I sat down on the curb and leant forward, trying to slowly breathe away the nauseous feeling. There was a cold snap in the air I was grateful for - it whispered by, rattling the first dead leaves of the Fall with it down the road, it filled my lungs and cooled my face. I heard footsteps behind me, and I felt Carlos gingerly lower himself down next to me.

"Sorry Boss," he murmured quietly. I just held my head and released a shuddering breath, and for half a second I thought I was going to cry – Jesus, how much had I had to drink? Carlos thankfully didn't touch me; but he sat with me in silence for a few minutes as I tried to wrap my head around what I'd seen. But by this stage I was too drunk to really think clearly.

But I was _feeling_ things just fine, and at the moment I sure as shit felt angry. I gritted my teeth.

"He-" I started, but swallowed the words back. I needed to break something. I needed to kill something. I felt Carlos's hands over mine and only at the moment became aware that I'd been gripping my hair, nearly to the point of ripping it out of my scalp.

"Easy Boss," he said, drawing my hands away. I closed my eyes and felt my grip melt as his thumbs brushed soothingly over my knuckles. He brought my hands together, covering them with his own till my breathing slowed.

In my pocket my phone began to ring. I kept my eyes closed and tried to ignore it, but Carlos reached his fingers between the fabric and pulled it out, checking the caller ID.

"No number Boss," he said. I narrowed my eyes sidewards at the phone then reached out a drunken hand and snatched it away, clicking to answer it.

"_What_?" I barked down the phone. A deep, rumbling voice answered me, one I'd not heard in some time.

"_And interesting message you wanted to send, Saint._"

I blinked. Maero… shit. I really wasn't in a state to talk to him right now but it seemed I didn't have much of a choice.

"Nice to finally hear back from you, I was startin' to feel insulted," I cooed sarcastically back and trying not to slur my words. Carlos was suddenly alert next to me, ears keen for any information he could pick up. I tried to get my head straight, "I'm hoping you've got a better offer for me?"

There was a dark chuckle down the other end of the line. "_Not exactly_."

There was the sound of tyres screaming somewhere not too far off and I glanced up; Carlos drew his gun.

"_The Ronin were a bunch of limp dicks. We won't be so easy._"

I stumbled to my feet, drawing my own gun as the sound of the car got closer,

"_So the next time you feel like coming at us, remember-_"

The short vermillion truck didn't even slow as it drove past, the Brotherhood inside flinging a bloodied, purple-clad soldier onto the road in front of the house,

"_You'll always pay for crossing the Brotherhood_."

The line went dead and I dropped my phone, racing to the body on the bitumen and hearing gunshots as Carlos fired after the fast retreating Swindle, which disappeared around the corner. I carefully put my hands on the Saint, who whimpered and groaned as I gently rolled him over. His face was a bloodied mess, his arm hung limply away from his body, looking like the shoulder had been popped out of joint. His clothes were shredded, huge cuts over his torso.

"Carlos!" I shouted, "Help me get him inside!"

I looped my arms under him bride style, Carlos quickly coming and doing the same on the other side, and together we lifted him – the Saint gritted his teeth and groaned as we began to carry him in and I felt his blood trickling down my arm. People gasped and moved out of the way as Carlos began shouting at people rapidly in Spanish and they cleared the way to the kitchen; Shaundi came racing over and seeing the Saint shovelled things off the table where we awkwardly laid the him down – I crawled up on the table and began inspecting the wounds, my head swimming as I tried to focus. The kitchen was suddenly crowded and Shaundi was drunkenly shouting at people,

"Back the _fuck_ off, give him some air!"

"Shaundi!" I called back to her, "Get me some bandages and water,"

She nodded and swiftly stumbled away. The Saint rolled his eyes to look at me and I just nodded.

"You'll be okay," I assured him. His face was deathly white and I noticed a thick pool of blood beginning to spread over the wooden table top. I searched his body for the source of the bleeding, but it was coming from too many wounds; every time I'd stem one I'd find another. More strange hands were on him, clumsily trying to stop the haemorrhage and cover the wounds. I looked to the Saint's face, his skin grey and his emerald eyes were focused on me. I felt his fingers curl up over my hand.

"Hold on," I breathed. He trembled, and blinked, then slowly released a long breath, holding my gaze…

I stared into his green eyes as the last whisper of life left them.

The noise in the room slowly fell, yelling becoming murmurs becoming silence. The music still pulsed cruelly from the living room. I leant back from him, still staring into the lifeless eyes.

"…Boss?" a few voices around me ventured. I lifted my gaze to the people around the table. They were silent, reverent, many of them scared and shocked as they looked at the body in the pool of blood on Shaundi's breakfast table. Then my eyes met a familiar face; I didn't recognise him right away without the pale tinted glasses covering his eyes. His cheeks and lips were flushed and there was a dark bruise on his neck. Johnny pushed through the crowd towards me.

"Boss…?" he asked, looking from me to the body. His clothes were barely on properly. I stared at him and after a beat he looked at himself; without his glasses to hide his eyes I saw everything that flashed behind them; for all his stoicism his eyes were wide open windows to me. He quickly looked up to me and was about to say something but I turned my gaze back the Saint, whose name I didn't even know.

The anger and confusion I'd felt before was sucked away again, and now I just felt hollow.

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><p><strong>Mr. Brightside was the song that actually inspired this chapter; I'm not a fan of song fics but that's why I chose that particular one. the other ending I was tossing up between this one I really did like - involving a drunk chick making the mistake of calling the Boss a Ho and nearly getting beaten to death. I liked what it did for the characters but it made the story line sluggish.<strong>

**And I apologise to any squealing Johnny Gat fangirls like myself who might have been offended by this chapter...**


	17. S: Buzz Kill

**Sluggin it out. I've been writing bits and pieces of almost every chapter but this one, so sorry if it seems forced, it didn't come as easily as others have.**

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><p>Shaundi fished in her bag for the small creamy powder, frowning. The poor Boss, she'd been in a sucky mood ever since the party, all wound up. Shaundi had since figured out it wasn't just about Dom bleeding out in front of them; something had happened with Gat that night, you'd have to be a moron not to notice it.<p>

She'd later heard that he'd gone and screwed a stripper in the laundry. Shaundi couldn't blame him personally; the guy was drunk off his ass and, well, people had needs. But the Boss, though not confronting Gat about it, had by no means forgiven him. It was awful and pretty much everyone within a five hundred yard radius was feeling the ramifications of her not talking to him; the tension was palpable and both of these very dangerous people were starting to take their frustration out on anything but each other.

Shaundi smiled when she found the small pouch and stuck it momentarily in her pocket while she snatched the spare light bulb from its box, feeling cocky at the idea that she could bring the Boss some good news.

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><p>I meticulously checked my gun as I sat on the stairs, waiting for a call from Carlos. I was going over in my head again and again the day that I had met Maero and his little bitch Jessica, trying to remember every tiny detail that might have escaped me. He and his sideshow freaks hung out down at the south docks with their trucks, unafraid of being in the open. Their private tattooist was also the lead guitarist from some shitty band, the Feed Dogs. But there was one big detail that hung in front of me. Donnie.<p>

I'd seen him there; the shock of blue in his hair now dyed scarlet, working obediently on Maero's truck. Not only had he gotten himself adopted by the Brotherhood, he'd already kissed enough ass to get him to the position of private mechanic.

I'd told Carlos to get some of his boys trailing Donnie, learning his movements. I needed to get that little punk on his own; if that shit-kicking mechanic couldn't stand up to Mr Sharp to save Lin, I knew he sure as hell would do anything for me if it meant saving his own scrawny neck.

"Hey, I got you a present," a familiar, lazy voice floated over to me. I looked up to see Shaundi sashaying over to me, holding up an old light bulb. I raised an eyebrow.

"A light bulb. Just what I always wanted." I drawled. She narrowed her almond eyes at me.

"C'mon, you think I'd just _give_ you a _light bulb_?" she said, cocking an eyebrow and delicately smacking the glass against the marble handrail of the grand staircase. It shattered in two and I looked approvingly at the sharp edges.

"A face-shredder, just what I always wanted." I corrected with less sarcasm and more amusement.

Shaundi's smile widened; she pulled a generous pinch of powder from her pocket and sprinkled it into the glass, then whipped out a lighter from her other pocket, flicking a flame into existence and placing it under the thin glass. A small trail of smoke began to curl from inside the bulb. "Smoke this." She suggested, handing it to me. I raised an eyebrow before partaking of the unknown substance. Smoking shit from light bulbs had never resulted in anything good for anyone I'd ever known.

"Ever heard of a pipe?" I said coolly, eyeing off the powder that was beginning to melt and bubble in the heat. Shaundi shrugged.

"Pipes cost money. Money that could be used to buy drugs or shoes."

I blinked. Was I the only female on earth who seemed to have missed the shoe-gene? I looked to the light bulb, trusting that Shaundi wouldn't steer me wrong and leant my nose into the ether, breathing deeply.

There was a beat and nothing happened; then I began to feel my muscles relax and my eyes widen; colours brightened magically before my eyes and I felt simultaneously wide awake and beautifully at ease.

"…What is it?" I murmured, amazed.

"It's the Son's of Samedi's number one product. The shit's called Loa Dust." Shaundi said with her melodic voice. Oh jeez, I was a bit of a lightweight. Wait… Loa _Dust_?

"… But you smoke it?" I asked.

"They suck at marketing, what can I say?" she shot back, bringing the bulb up to her own face and breathing deeply, sighing with pleasure at the results. "The point is this shit's all over campus. I mean frats are buying it by the pound. We get enough of this stuff we might be able to figure out how to make it ourselves-"

"-Then we sell it for cheaper and steal their market," I finished with a sneaky smile. Shaundi nodded knowingly as she reflected my expression back.

"Exactly."

"How much we talking?" I asked.

Shaundi shrugged, "I dunno. Three pounds? Two for science, one for the weekend?" she said suggestively, nudging me. I nodded.

"Sure. Cos the last weekend I spent with you turned out so damn well." I said darkly. I tacked on after a beat, feeling bad. It's not like it was her fault… "Bout three pounds should do it."

Shaundi shifted beside me, "… Have you talked to Ga-?"

"So where abouts are they slinging?" I said abruptly, and she smartly dropped the subject.

"… I'll get onto Jerrod. Some of them hang out at the Uni wharfs."

"Text me with the other locations when you get them," I said, getting up and moving to my room to arm myself.

"You want me coming along?" she called up the stairs. I raised an eyebrow at her.

"Can you shoot straight?" I asked bluntly. She blinked.

"We're gonna be sh-"

"There's a good chance of it, yeah." I said bluntly, raising an eyebrow. "You still wanna come along?"

Shaundi blinked and twisted her mouth thoughtfully.

"Yeah. Yeah I can do this." She said, sticking her chin out. I shrugged and continued up the stairs, letting her follow.

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><p>The University had been built onto what had once been a nature reserve on the south island of Stilwater, erupting (like most things seemed to me) overnight; I'd quite liked the reserve before (the scenery, the animals, the useful places for hiding bodies,) but now it had been smoothed out and concreted over into a fresh new campus in an attempt to make our city seem more cultured. Unsurprisingly the multi-million dollar facility had turned into a cesspool for C+ students with moderate drug habits making it the backup plan college that had to advertise for scholars. Still, it was an active community and still a nice looking area.<p>

The Samedi slung pretty much in the open, no shame in what they had going down. They were easy to spot in their lime green colours; their favoured spot was, as Shaundi had said, the Uni wharfs. We found a small band of them down by the new boardwalk and took them out quickly; snagging the dust they had on them. We moved quietly at first – I used my knife, Shaundi had a bat, and it was over pretty rapidly before any of them could get out a distress call. I hadn't been expecting their raw fearlessness in fighting; usually when you attacked some bangers you had a whole variety of fight styles; some fell back to shoot, others would get up close and personal. Some would just start running. But the Samedi were all nutcases, racing fearlessly up to us with their weapons drawn, bloodthirsty and seemingly impervious to pain till the moment they were killed. It made me wonder if they were _all_ on drugs. By the time we rocked up to the lot that Jerrod had texted us Shaundi was feeling a little more adventurous and fearless, taking my lead and smacking in heads that were in her way.

Till someone actually drew a gun on us.

I don't think Shaundi had ever actually been in a gunfight till then; she'd grabbed her pistol from her waistband but hadn't actually aimed properly when she went to fire; it had given me decent cover while I took out the real threat but that was about it; she had panicked. The girl was smart, she was resourceful, but when it came to lethal combat she may as well have been a Care Bear. I doubted she'd ever knowingly killed someone before. She'd seemed pretty grey when she answered her text the last time to find Mr _ was on the grounds slinging. I of course wanted to chase him down; Shaundi had only nodded and jumped into the back seat, swallowing bile, reloading her gun and hanging out the window while I tore away from the curb to chase the dealer down. Again, even when she concentrated she only ever hit the car once, taking out a front wheel and causing it to swerve and lose control. I slammed my foot on the gas and rammed it hard from behind – the car sped and slammed into a wall, Mr _ crawling out of the wreck, blood pouring over his face. I'd strolled up to him, nonchalant and shot him in the head – you get to killing as many people as I have and they stop being humans so much as lumps of animated earth.

As I fished in his jacket and car for his product, Shaundi had gone and quietly thrown up in a shrub. I was disappointed; though to her credit, she'd come up to inspect the body when she was done, biting her lip and carefully discharging a bullet into his already deceased head. I got the feeling she was trying to prove something to herself rather than me but I didn't push it.

Next time, I knew I couldn't be taking her with me. For all her intentions, I couldn't afford her hesitation, should the situation become more lethal. Give her time; she had it in her.

It wasn't much of an assault on the Samedi but we had a few pounds of their specialty and scared a good deal of their crew away from the Uni, helping us get a foothold there.

Shaundi insisted that she'd only need two pounds to study and work out what was in the dust and that the third was purely recreational, so by the time we'd gotten back to the hideout I'd hunted out a pipe and fed a decent spoonful of dust into it, offering it to her to steady the girl's nerves. She was still a little pale and had inhaled gratefully, calming quickly.

Poor kid. She was enthusiastic, I'd give her that, but it didn't help when I needed focused cover to stop from being, y'know, _killed_.

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><p>It wasn't long till we curled up next to each other on the couch, sharing the pipe between us. And by 'share' I mean I occasionally took a breath of it while Shaundi sucked back the rest like the Little Engine that Could.<p>

Now, Loa Dust was some pretty fascinating shit. If I'd have to guess, there were mushies or some other kind of hallucinogen in there somewhere which would account for the walls occasionally changing colour and moving to inconvenient places if you'd had too much of the stuff, but the relaxation and inclination to laughter I was putting down to some good pot. I'd stopped pretty early, only enough of the dust in my system to make me feel relaxed; the colours in the hideout seemed more vibrant, but they weren't changing or fluctuating. I didn't have a huge interest in getting off my chops right now.

Shaundi nudged me.

"You high yet Boss?" she asked serenely with her head resting on my lap and twisting one of her dreadlocks between her fingers. I sighed, feeling wonderful.

"Working on it," I replied serenely. She only chuckled, taking a hefty toke and encouraging me to the rest. I declined, and Shaundi just smiled sleepily, drawing another lungful and speaking the smoke out.

"Do you ever feel afraid?" she said softly, lifting herself up and snuggling into my moderately numb arm.

"What?" I blinked quickly.

She wriggled against me. "You know, like, do you think it's scary?"

"… Scary. Uh. Well… I dunno." I said honestly. I'd felt nervous in the water, and scared before when I was a kid and thought there was a swamp monster living under my bed but… what, _fighting_? I shrugged, trying to work out how to explain it. "It's scary like Jerry Seinfeld is funny." I decided, "I mean… you know it is, but… you're still not laughing."

Shaundi cracked up and rolled off the couch, falling onto the carpet and holding her sides with weirdly hysterical laughter. I looked down at her deadpan, trying to work out what was so funny. I heard her phone going off and reached into her pocket to grab it; a call from-

"-Jerrod." I said, handing it to her. She suddenly scowled and shook her head.

"God no. Fuck." She said. I wasn't going to pretend to understand how these human relationships worked and let the phone ring out on the coffee table.

"Two days ago you liked him," I said curiously. "Two hours ago you got info from him." Shaundi shrugged and smiled from her prone position on the floor.

"Yeahhh, well… we kinda had a fight last weekend, I only hung on to him so he could get me some more dirt on the Samedi. He's cute, but not really for me. I mean, it wasn't serious, he got it. All girls have a guy for quick release, if you know what I mean," she finished with a wink.

I shook my head without thinking.

"Quick release?" I asked. She only raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. You know where I'm coming from…" I shook my head and she propped up on her elbows. A long silence followed as she studied me. "C'mon, how long has it been?"

I blinked, suddenly nervous. "Since what?"

"You last had sex."

"Wha- well how long it's been for _you_?" I said sharply. When unsure, attack. Shaundi just squinted her eyes and tilted her head, her fingers flicking as she counted.

"Hmn… eleven hours." She said definitively. I could only narrow my eyes and growl.

"Fuck you Shaundi."

She grinned broadly. "No, fuck _you_ Boss. The whole point of this conversation." She said slyly. I rolled my eyes.

"Get a hair cut and a tattoo so I don't have to keep explaining you to my friends." I said coolly. Shaundi just rolled over and began laughing disproportionately again, putting the pipe between her lips and drawing a deep toke of Loa Dust. I stretched out and felt my stomach rumble. I cringed; munchies. I'd been known to pack away family sized pizzas when I had the munchies.

"You hungry?" I asked Shaundi. If I was going to make a Freckle's run I was only going to do it once.

"…No. But I think I will be." She assured me, frowning thoughtfully and beginning to phase out. I sighed and stood up, leaving her happy highness and making my way upstairs to leave the hideout, on a distracted expedition to hunt for food.

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><p>I shovelled a near fistful of fries into my mouth as I made the arduous journey back through the sub basements, several bags of Freckle Bitches clasped firmly under my arms. I would probably regret this tomorrow but at the moment it was too damn satisfying – I'll admit it, I eat about as elegantly as a St Bernard at the best of times and just as quickly, and I was even worse when I was alone. Washing away the salt with a deep drink from my coke, I halted as I stepped through into the hallway hearing voices, one of them a little unexpected.<p>

"You know I'm not saying that, but… c'mon, have you _tried_ talking to her about it?"

"What's to say? She don't wanna talk."

I leant against the wall at the familiar, growling voice. Eaves dropping on my lieutenants; I never through I'd stoop that low. I frowned as he continued, "If she wants to get uptight about it it's her problem."

It was like getting hit across the chest with a baseball bat.

"Johnny! For fucks sake that's enough!" Shaundi said lowly to him, as if she knew I could hear them, "Now I _know_ you didn't mean that. Can you really blame her for being upset?"

There was a long silence, barely broken by a murmur I couldn't quite make out.

"Uh, _yeah_, it kinda is." Shaundi said and her voice rose a little to him. I felt a nervous twinge at the thought of her antagonising Gat. "I mean have you even _tried_ to look at it from her perspective? She _walks in_ on you getti- _yeah,_ she did. You didn't know that?" she said, responding to something I couldn't see, "Then she find out that while she'd had a Saint bleeding out on her you were busy fuckin' some ska-"

"What you think I _don't_ feel like an asshole about it?" he snapped at her, "Fuckoff Shaundi."

Shaundi was abruptly quiet and I listened even more carefully. Gat wouldn't hurt her. I trusted that.

"… She doesn't _want_ to be mad at you." I heard her finally voice. Gat didn't respond. I jolted when I heard footsteps starting up the stairs and quickly stepped forward, calling out casually as I could.

"Shaundi! I didn't know if you wanted a Fist or Bazooms, I got both," I called out. The footsteps on the stairs slowed as I closed the short distance down the hall to the top of the staircase.

I can't remember ever lying to Johnny. Not once, the whole time I'd known him, and in those few short steps to the staircase I knew I wasn't going to start being deceitful now. My eyes caught sight of him on the middle level but I kept my pace down the stairs.

"Hungry?" I asked, holding up the bags as I stepped down towards him. Johnny raised and eyebrow then shook his head.

"Thanks, I'm good."

As I passed him I fixed my eyes onto his; we exchanged a meaningful look and he knew I'd heard him. I saw his jaw clench for a moment and he went to say something-

"Later," I said quietly. He didn't like it, but he dealt with it, nodding and continued up the stairs as I descended.

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><p><strong>*scuttles away to write more interesting chapters<strong>


	18. S: Heart to Heart

**I love this chapter. I love it like fat kids love cake. Like albinos love night time. Like a Saint loves napalm.**

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><p>When I had said 'later' to Johnny I had meant it. However as I began thinking of what I would say to him I wound up putting it off, busying myself instead with clearing the Samedi out of the trailer park on the north island; they'd been using the place for years to cook, so it was no trouble getting the trailers to go 'boom' and clear those little bastards out of there. The Samedi gave the park up fairly quickly; I mean it wasn't exactly a prime piece of real estate or anything. But with them gone, it meant we Saints now had total control over the north island, and with the central inlet acting as a natural buffer, it was pretty well locked down.<p>

Voila. Half the city was back in Saint control.

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><p>I walked along the esplanade on the periphery of the Red Light district, spying Shaundi and two other figures under a gazebo. I narrowed my eyes, recognising one of them as Johnny; he was leaning against one of the pillars, dragging on a cigarette, giving me a smile and a nod as I approached.<p>

Shaundi was munching away on a hotdog and wiped some mustard from her mouth as I arrived. "Hey, what's up?" she greeted fondly, sucking a bit of ketchup from her thumb. I stuck my hands in my pockets, looking around at the gazebo, one in a row of several down the esplanade, each lit up with fairy lights, dim in the grey twilight and reflecting off the water. It was another example of the city trying to dress up an area.

"I can't believe what they've done here." I said, unimpressed.

"Pretty classy, huh?" Shaundi commented, gazing about her.

"Pfft. Whatever." Johnny commented, flicking some ash to the ground, "A strip club named TNA, now _that's_ classy," he said with a sarcastic smile.

"Gotta agree there," I said with a nod, "This shit's just tacky. So. You find out what was in that Loa Dust?" I asked, dropping down onto the bench next to her.

"Science is hard." Shaundi said apologetically, her mind wandering for a moment. "Anyway, like I was saying, _I _can't work it out, but I know someone who can."

"Who?" I asked, taking out a cigarette of my own – the last in the pack – and putting it between my lips, fishing in my pocket for my lighter.

"It's a woman I met in prison, her name's Laura-"

"Wait… _Laura_?" I interrupted quickly, my cigarette dropping from my lips – I gave a quiet cuss when I saw it hit the ground and gingerly picked it up, throwing it over my shoulder with a sigh. "Forty-something from the suburbs?" I said, sitting back up to look at Shaundi. She blinked at me with some surprise.

"Yeah. You know her?" she asked taking another bite of her hot dog. I just nodded, smiling fondly at the memories that were being conjured.

"Yeah, I played guard for her when she was slinging back in the day. You remember her right Johnny?" I said looking to him. His brow creased as he searched for the memory, pulling out his pack of smokes and lighter, "She used to bake those hash brownies and drop them round to the church every Thursday." I tacked on.

"Aha, _Laura_!" He said as the memory hit him, and he grinned. He held out the pack and lighter to me and I gratefully drew out a new smoke, "The old den-mother. I heard about her getting busted."

Laura was a soccer mom whose friend clued her in on the drug trade; I think she fell into it more for the excitement than the money. She wound up becoming a surrogate mother to almost everyone in the gang, including me – I was only eighteen when I first met her, and having no memories of my real mother and a shaky relationship with my aunt, Laura and I adopted each other pretty quickly, whether I intended to or not.

"Yeah, well, she knows more about this shit than I ever will." Shaundi piped up, "There's just one problem…"

"What is it?" I mumbled with the cigarette between my lips, flicking the flame into existence and taking a drag.

"She's still in prison." Shaundi said sheepishly. I pulled the smoke from my lips.

"Fuckin' great…" I said, making the words visible with the cloud of ash, handing the lighter back to Johnny. Shaundi tapped me reassuringly on the arm.

"_Don't worry_," she said casually, "I know how you guys are goin to break in, I've got you guys a boat ready and everything. Why do you think I called Gat here? You'll need some good backup. That and he knows the layout of the joint better than you do"

My gaze flickered to Johnny and our gaze met for a brief second.

"Samson! C'mere." Shaundi said, waving over the other guy who till then had just been waiting patiently, watching the water. He was an inconspicuous sort of guy, coffee coloured skin, plain white shirt. He was carrying a large cube-shaped parcel.

"Hey Shaundi, I rigged up that bomb just like you wa-" I helped as he stumbled up the steps of the gazebo, landing flat on his face, the package flying from his arms and sliding along the ground up to our feet. There was a soft trill of beeps and we all froze, looking to one another. Samson swallowed carefully, looking at the remote in his hand. A count down timer. Fan-fucking-tastic. Beside me Shaundi unfroze.

"Er… you should probably hurry."

* * *

><p>A fresh spray of salt water flew onto my skin as the speedboat rocketed towards the Stilwater Penitentiary Island. I kept my focus on the spinning beam emanating from the lighthouse.<p>

"Gat, did Shaundi actually go through the plan with you?" I called out over the noise of the wind and roar of the engine. We began to slow as we neared the island. "I'd like to know what we're going to do with this bomb before it kills us."

"Yeah," he replied, watching the island keenly for any sign of us being spotted, "We need to swing round the back, there's an old tunnel that was used to transport shit up onto the island, before they built the docks. We get up in there it'll take us straight to the generator."

I nodded, twisting the controls to get us closer to the rocks, slowing the engine more as we curled around the back of the island, spying the small inlet that opened to a cave. I killed the engine and the boat drifted up to it, Johnny bundled up the bomb under one arm and slung his shot gun over his shoulder. I slung my twin SMGs from off my back, jumping from the boat and onto the slippery stone surface, Gat following suit.

I looked into the tunnel and narrowed my eyes, peering through the inky darkness, so endless it was like peering into oblivion.

"Gat, you got the flashlight?" I asked, hearing my voice echo up the tunnel.

"…"

I looked over my shoulder to him, eyebrows raised expectantly. He shrugged, his mouth pulled into an awkward grimace.

"I thought you had it." He said bluntly. I cringed. _Fffuuuuuuuu_-

"Right then..." I said, shaking my head and stepping blindly into the cavern, Gat following closely. I let the muzzle of one of my guns drag over the wall to guide me, carefully stepping over the uneven, damp ground, and we started out ascent, the soft beeping of the bomb under Johnny's arm warning us to hurry. I slipped occasionally; there was absolute blackness surrounding us – beside me I heard Gat's footsteps. The silence between us was deafening.

"_Shit_-" I heard a sudden scramble and a thud as Gat slipped over, and couldn't help but snort a laugh out, reaching a blind had out for him.

"Gat, you ok?" I said, my voice betraying my laughter. I felt my hand land on something soft and spiky, patting down to his shoulder and feeling his hand wrap around my upper arm, pulling himself back up.

"Laugh it up Boss," he replied, but I could hear his smile.

"The bomb?" I asked quickly. I heard Johnny hiss.

"I think we got about five minutes," he replied. I gritted my teeth and swore, gripping his wrist and picking up my pace. From that point we continued out ascent with wrists gripped to steady one another. The sudden proximity, the quiet broken only by the sound of out footsteps and breaths, and the thick darkness that hid everything else from me actually made me feel secure. I bit my lip, and then bit the bullet.

"Listen, Johnny, about Shaundi's party," I started before he cut me off.

"Holy shit Boss, you're seriously bringing this up _now_?" he said, incredulous. I felt my chin jut out.

"Yeah. I am." I said matter-of-factly. "Look, I just… I need to know-" I cut myself off, frustrated that I'd started this conversation without actually thinking about what I was going to say, "I mean… _what the hell man_?" I blurted. Johnny made a small frustrated noise beside me. "I seriously left you alone for like, five minutes, and-"

"It was just a fuckin hooker," he said sharply – in the darkness I couldn't read his expression – we rounded a corner and a light broke out in the tunnel, which we started jogging for once we could see what was in front of our feet.

"That's not the point," I said with a little exasperation, picking up my pace more and releasing his wrist, an action he mirrored. There was a flimsy gate at the end of the tunnel, a thick chain and padlock wrapped around the lock. – I balled up my frustration and kicked it hard; the chain held, but the old rusty hinges just fell apart and the gate flew open. We stepped into the boiler room, peering through the dim red light and spying the stairs.

"Well what _is_ the p-" he said with frustration as he jogged along behind me before I cut him off.

"The point is fuckin _why_?" I said, rounding a corner and seeing a closed door, the peeling paint on it saying 'G NER TOR'. I marched up to it and kicked the old door off its hinges, scowling. Johnny moved past me, crouching to set the bomb in place and checking the timer – forty seconds. "It wouldn't have mattered if it was a hooker or a stripper or the first fuckin' lady," I continued, my previous anger and frustration beginning to bubble up again, getting up and jogging back towards the boiler room with Gat to find some cover. We crouched on the stairs, mentally counting down the seconds and ducking our heads when the bomb finally exploded – the noise was deafening and left a ringing in my ears, a shockwave rattled the foundations of the building and the fire rolled a heatwave over us. Everything went to black, the only light now from the fire.

"You're insane, you know that?" Gat purred darkly, and shoulder to shoulder we jogged forward past the destroyed generator, winding through the flames and into the prison basement.

"You're evading the question," I snapped, readying my SMGs. We kicked open one final door, finding ourselves in a random corridor. A siren was wailing and the only dim light was that of the emergency power, which was already failing. There was the thunderous echo of hundreds of shouts and gunshots – the inmates had wasted no time in creating absolute anarchy in the wake of the power outage.

"Which way?" I said, looking to Gat. He narrowed his eyes and indicated left. Two guards rounded the corner from the right, shouting when they saw us. I quickly opened fire on them, their bodies jerking and hitting the ground.

"Aight," I said breathlessly, and we started sprinting to the left through the prison. He guided me through the maze, busting through another door and erupting into the mess hall.

It was anarchy.

A huge mass of orange-clad inmates were tearing the guards apart, each wildly hoping to nab their freedom. It was easy enough to run past them and into the cellblock. The guards in the narrow corridors were trying to suppress the inmates, but when they saw us, began shouting into walkie talkies. Gat fired his shotgun close range, just about taking off their heads and I rattled a spray of bullets into them, crouching to reload my weapons.

"I'm just trying to understand Gat," I said hotly, "One minute you – you hear Eesh's song and go and shut yourself away, you didn't even want to talk to _me_ and the next you've got some skank pinned under you in the spare room? Oh! And _then_ dragging her off and bending her over a washing machine, _real_ fuckin classy." I said angrily, realising why I was so livid at him. I felt like he'd cheated her, irrational though it was. I looked up to him, his face contorted with pain and for a moment I thought he'd been shot by one of the guards – he hadn't. We continued our sprint through the cell block – I flew at the guards in the way, releasing all my frustration on them with violent fury.

"You seriously think that I'm _proud_ of that shit?" he shouted, and taking me by surprise, "I fuckin hate what I did." He swung the butt of his shotgun at a guard, smacking her in the head then firing at her backup a little further down, the man flying back with the impact of the shell. More guards started charging down the hall at us.

"Look, I just…" he grunted as he fired a shot at a guard, swinging the butt of the shotgun to crack open the skulls of guards and inmates in our way, "you know, Shaundi was there with that Jerrod guy," THWACK "Peirce was hanging out with Mia," CRUNCH "Carlos had _you_ wrapped up in his arms like a dog guarding a _fuckin_' bone…" SMACK "she was just kind of _there_." He finished, breathing heavily and reloading as blood ran down his gun. Our gaze on each other was fixed as if our eyes were connected with cables. Without looking I fired a bullet into the head of a guard charging me, and I had to try to understand something I'd known for a while;

He was lonely.

Loneliness wasn't a concept I was particularly familiar with. When I was a kid I was always the only one at camp who _never_ got homesick, not once. I could sit by myself during lunch at school and not feel awkward. Sometimes I think I felt something akin to it those short nights before I joined the Saints but it was so muddled in other emotions I couldn't really identify it. But if those songs on the radio were any indication, lonely was a pretty shitty way to be feeling. I was suddenly ashamed for yelling at him, for being so furious, and broke my gaze from him, leading the way down the halls again.

"I… _really_ wish I could be ok with this." I said, finding myself almost sincere as I kicked a guard in the nuts, jumping on him and firing a bullet into his head. I stood and looked back to Johnny; his expression was pained, but as if it'd been carved from stone. "But I get how it would have happened." I finished, continuing to jog through the hall. Silence stretched out between us, broken only by the constant wailing of the alarm, or as we shot or maimed our opponents as we sought out was through the cell blocks to where Laura was held.

"… I wouldn't want you to be ok with it." He finally tacked on as we made our way up a staircase. I halted, about to fire at a guard who was yelling at me and looked to him – I discharged the gun without looking and the body tumbled by our feet. Our eye contact didn't break – he was behind me and a step below (which actually put me eye to eye with him and making me wish again that I was taller). My shoulders fell, and I nudged him affectionately with the clip of my SMG, wanting to tell him it was ok. Instead I turned around and jogged up the stairs through the cell block.

Laura was easy enough to spot; her hair was sitting perfectly in a conservative bob, and she even sported a powder-blue cardigan over her bright orange jumpsuit. Her cell door was open but she was only poking her head out uncertainly, gasping when she spied us.

"Hey Laura," I greeted with a dry smile, "You ready to get out of here?"

Laura clasped her hands together, eyes bright. "A _jail break_?" she exclaimed, "How _exciting!_"

We stuck close to her as we charged back through the jail – the riots were in full swing now, inmates ripping the guards – and each other – to shreds. I pulled out my phone once we made it to the mess hall, racing past the guards quickly as I speed dialled Shaundi.

"_Good to go Boss?"_ she asked lazily.

"Yep, send in our ride," I replied, leading the way through the holding cells and smiling when I heard Laura still talking to me.

"I can't believe it's really you sweetie! I could barely recognise you – did you do something with your hair?" she asked sweetly, jogging behind us. I sighed and ran a hand through my locks habitually, and she turned her attention to Johnny, cooing over how good it was to see him again and how mature he'd grown.

I whipped around the corner, quickly taking aim and firing at the guards, breaking out through the front doors into the courtyard.

"So how we getting outta here?" Johnny called out to me over the sound of the sirens, "Boat?"

I glanced over my shoulder and smirked, my eyes going to the sky when I heard the sound of a helicopter coming in to land, the pilot clad in purple and waving down at us. Behind me Laura made a delighted sound and clapped her hands.

* * *

><p>"Oh, I <em>can't<em> thank you enough for helping me out of that place," Laura sighed happily as the chopper continued to ascend away from the jail. She busily fastened a belt around her waist, sitting comfortably on one of the side benches, smiling broadly at us.

"Hey, ain't no problem Losz," Gat said with a grin; he was seated next to her, reloading his gun and glancing out the window. Laura clasped her hands in her lap, throwing affectionate looks between Johnny and me.

"Well, can I just say you two really _do_ look like a cute couple." Laura decided giddily, as the chopper served off towards the city.

Johnny and I blinked in unison, looking to each other then to her. "…What?" we chimed.

"Oh you're not together?" She asked with an almost-frown. I raised an eyebrow and shook my head, seating myself on the bench opposite.

"Well, no, Laura."

"Oh thank goodness for that!" She suddenly exclaimed, leaning forward and gushing at me with bright eyes, "My boy Max has _just_ graduated and he just can't seem to find himself a girl, I really think he needs someone with a bit of _spunk_, y'know? Anyway, I was thinking maybe I could give you his number; you two could go out and sling some pot together! Wouldn't that be _adorable_?"

Johnny grinned at her, "Y'know Laura, that sounds like a _super swell_ idea. In fact," he said getting out his phone, "let me give you're _her_ number so you can give it to _him_-"

"-Laura, sweetie, you _know_ your oldest son is _really_ gay?" I interrupted with a little exasperation. I'd met Max once before and had no doubt in my mind about his sexual orientation.

"Oh, _everyone_ tells me that, but he hasn't said it for himself yet. If he does, _then_ I'll find a nice young man for him to adopt a little Chinese baby with – oh, no offense dear." She said, patting Johnny on the knee, "Till then, I'll assume otherwise. I mean, I'd like to see some grandchildren soon without relying on my youngest knocking up that little hussy he's dating at the moment. And look at _you_; you've got nice _wide_ birthing hips, just like me! I bet it'll be a breeze for you!"

Johnny had leant forward and I could see him just about stuffing his whole fist into his mouth to stop from laughing at my expense. Laura liked picking out any possible similarities between me and her ever since she mentioned she'd always wanted a daughter.

"Oh, are you okay?" She asked Gat, motherly eyes full of concern.

"A-Air sick." He struggled to respond.

"Oh I'm _sorry_ dumpling," She cooed, leaning forward to rub a hand over his back and I half expected her to materialise chicken soup from thin air, "Just breathe deeply… Oh! Was it racist for me to call you _dumpling_?"

I snorted and flew a hand up to my mouth, trying to pass it off as a cough. I saw Johnny slam his eyes shut, looking like his cheeks would explode with mirth, "It's fine," he mumbled around his fist.

"No Laura, it's not racist..." I said, lips pursed to try and keep a serious expression, "Look, thanks, but I don't really have a lot of time for a relationship right now,"

"Oh, pity. Well, you know my youngest will be out of high school in two years and between us, I think he's got a thing for the more mature girls. He had the _biggest_ crush on his math teacher-"

"Well, maybe." I said quickly and dismissively, "Talk to me in two years, till then, I'm a career girl." I cut her off with a smile. She just waved a hand.

"Oh _of course_ sweetie pie! You've got those other gangs to take out; we don't want you distracted." She looked quickly to the pilot, "Oh, do you think you could drop me off by my house?" she called out to him, turning back to look at us with a broad smile, "I know my husband will be _dying_ to see you two!"

My eyes met Gat's, and with both suppressed our smiles, sharing telepathic laughter.

* * *

><p>The chopper touched down at a large intersection in the suburbs, and we waved the pilot off again, seeing as the cops would be looking for it. We followed Laura down the block to her house, a large clad building that might have been ripped from Better Homes and Gardens magazine.<p>

Laura sighed and turned to look at me as we made out way up the drive. "I still can't get over that it's _you_ sugar pie! This is _so exciting_!" she said walking up the footpath and pinching one of my cheeks. I let her. One of the weird privileges Laura had above every other person on the planet, mostly cos I know I could rock up to her place at two AM any night and she'd welcome me in with a hug, unfazed, up to cook me toast and eggs and hide me from whoever was looking for me.

"You sure you can figure out what's in the Son's stuff?" I asked, trying to move everything back to business.

"Don't worry sweetie," She said turning and ringing the doorbell of the house, "when it comes to drugs, or snicker-doodles, I'm the _best!_"

I felt Johnny and I nod in unison (we'd both had her snicker-doodles) before the door behind her swung open, and another shockingly familiar figure caught me eye. He was relatively tall, red dreadlocks dropping down over his bare shoulders and paint-spattered cammo pants slung over his legs. My jaw dropped a little. Tobias – another dealer I used to roll with and guard when he was slinging. He looked about as natural in the 'burbs as a penguin would in the savannah.

"Ain't that the truth baby." He responded to Laura's words, stepping out of the house to greet his wife, his lazy eyes raking her in and his lips whipping into a wide grin.

"Toby!" She exclaimed with delight, throwing herself into his arms. My eyebrows rose – I shouldn't have been surprised, I mean they technically ran in the same circles but… wow. Tobias turned to look at me and smiled with familiarity.

"Thanks for bringin' my pumpkin-muffin back. You need anything, you let me know." He said with a drawl smile that was impossible not to reciprocate.

"Oh, I already talked to Laura about that," I replied, and he nodded.

"In that case you mind givin' me and the wife a little quality time?" he responded, smacking Laura hard on the ass, "I'd like to have a belated conjugal before the PTA meeting."

"No problem,"

Laura leapt up into Toby's arms and he kicked the door closed. Johnny and I turned and strolled down the drive to the road – I was shaking my head, incredulous.

"How did they even-"

"-I have no idea." Johnny finished with a wry smile, shoving his hands into his pockets. I shivered and zipped my leather jacket up, dragging my hair forward over my shoulders to pop the collar. We started strolling up the road, aiming out of the suburbs and I felt a wave of déjà vu; it had reminded me of the early days of being a Saint, when me and Johnny, maybe a few of the other crew would wander about at night, just hanging out, drinking, tagging the streets and committing petty vandalism for kicks. I had to remind myself we were grown ups now and should only be committing large scale vandalism with the designated purpose of furthering our criminal career. The thought made me maudlin, and I reflected, not for the first time, on the missing three years of my life.

"We should probably call a cab or something," Johnny said, glancing around. I crinkled my nose, spying a Varsity pickup in the driveway of one of the Edward-Scissorhands suburban homes. My fingers itched.

"Nah uh." I said sharply, grabbing his sleeve and making a jog for the car. I felt a playfully dangerous that night, still high from creating a prison riot and I wasn't up for going home just yet. I released his sleeve as I got to the truck, searching the ground and spied a garden gnome, picking it up. Behind me I heard Johnny chuckle and I smashed in the window on the driver's side, feeling a small rush when the glass shattered.

"Or, we could just steal a truck," he said approvingly as I unlocked the door, tugging my sleeve down over my hand to sweep out the glass and then clambered in, pulling away the cover under the steering wheel and hunting out the wires to kick start the car.

"Whup, might wanna hurry there boss," I heard Gat say with a grin – a light had gone on in the house and distantly I heard a window open.

"HEY!" came a shout from inside the house, just as I finally got the car's engine to sputter into life. Johnny laughed darkly and clambered into the car, right over the top of me and spilling himself into the passenger seat – the car was stick-shift, I knew he wasn't going to even try driving it. I looked up through the windshield to see a chubby balding guy in his boxers leaning out an upstairs window at us, shouting that he was going to call the cops.

"You goddamn punks!" he hollered as I yanked the car into reverse and tore out of the driveway, Johnny cranking the radio on and winding his window down. He was laughing as we swerved through the suburbs.

"Y'know, I don't think anyone's called me a punk since high school." He said with a wry grin. I chuckled.

"Maybe not to your _face_…" I suggested, yanking the steering wheel and driving us to no where, just enjoying the wind whipping my hair and the music blasting in my head. Johnny drew a large, satisfied breath and folded his hands behind his head.

"Yo, swing by Rex's," he suggested, "I mean, unless you were wanting to take _Max_ there on your first date-" he teased and I started laughing again, dropping my head on the steering wheel, "- we could go grab some beers."

"Sure thing, _dumpling_," I grinned at him, and Johnny and I collapsed in mirth, shoulders heaving with laughter.

And just like that, everything was right in the world.

* * *

><p><strong>Why have two characters sitting in a room talking, when you can have them running through a prison riot and killing people while talking?<strong>


	19. B: Blowing up Cars with Boys

**Sorry about the late update, I was busy procrastinating.**

**Well, that and acutally _writing_ this particular chapter was like getting blood from a stone. Not my best but I think again I'm just getting impatient for the good stuff. Also! New pics on Deviant Art! Check me out at shadow000angel**

* * *

><p>October ten.<p>

The date lurched forward at me and was there before I knew it. When I woke up early that day I was painfully aware of the anniversary, all my efforts in keeping busy and industrious the week before – destroying Samedi pot fields, establishing our own Dust labs now we had their recipe, and generally tightening all our business ventures – seemed now in vain. I stretched out my sore limbs and rolled out of bed, shivering in the new cold that the fall brought and grabbed my hoodie off the foot of my bed, crawling into it with relief and pulling my phone from the front pocket to check the time.

6:03. Sunrise soon.

I lazily slipped my favourite purple canvas shoes on and, grabbing my smokes from the bedside table slipped out of my room, yawning and rubbing an eye – I quietly padded down the hall into the balcony that was my office and checked over the railing to the hall below; two Saints on the DL were curled up on one of the couches talking, Carlos was standing by the bar, his crew around him as he counted out bills, fixing them up for some work-or-other that they'd done. Like me, Carlos pretty much lived at the hideout when he wasn't visiting his cousins or friends. By chance he glanced up to the balcony and I gave him a nod good-morning and he smiled back warmly.

I turned on my heel and started back down the hall to the make my way through the sub-basements (I had to get an elevator in this place…). Finally padding over the soft carpet of the mission I pushed out into the brisk morning air, the grey of twilight hanging about us and the city in eerie silence while it slept. I drew a smoke from my pocket with increasingly cold hands and whipped it to my lips, striking a flame from my lighter. I was smoking more and more lately and beginning to think I should cut back, maybe quit – though admittedly I was thinking this while gratefully drawing in nicotine.

My eyes narrowed lengthways down the car park when a bright glint of orange caught my them, the first rays of sun glaring from between the buildings. Huh, pretty. It looked like it'd turn out to be a nice day – though in Stilwater you could never be sure. I cast my eyes to the ground.

October ten… what was four years to most felt like only one to me. I flicked a little ash to the ground and glanced over my shoulder when the doors of the mission opened again, seeing Carlos stepping out pulling an old black denim jacket over his shoulders.

"Hey Boss," he greeted. He tugged a crumpled sheet of paper from his pocket, "Got a bit on that Donnie guy for you. Pretty predictable schedule, nothing too interesting."

I nodded mutely and took the paper, glancing down at the list of times and places. I noticed from the corner of my eye Carlos held something else, what looked like a small parcel wrapped in tissue paper, which he toyed with uncertainly for a moment before cramming it back in his pocket. I moved my attention back to the schedule.

"Funny thing, Reece saw him headin' into a florist yesterday, he bought a wreath." Carlos piped up.

I blinked and looked at him sharply.

"He did huh?" I asked, quickly scanning the paper again.

"Yeah – why, you know what it was for?" he asked. I paused before nodding.

"I think so." Donnie's schedule seemed pretty tight. If he was going to do what I thought he was going to do… I roughly folded the paper again and shoved it into my back pocket.

"C'mon," I said to Carlos, walking over to my car, parked a few short paces down the lot. Carlos followed me closely.

"Where we going?"

I quickly checked the time on my phone, "...We're gonna go get pancakes, then we're heading to the Ultor Dome."

* * *

><p>I pulled up into a side street, a little way from my actual target; the lot overlooking the water where Lin and I had been stuffed in the trunk of a car and pushed in by that son-of-a-cunt 'Mr Sharp'. Donnie would be going there, I was sure of it, and didn't want him tipped off.<p>

"So who is this Donnie guy anyway?" Carlos said, sipping on a coke. I yanked the handbrake up and parked the car, shifting in my seat to reach for my gun, meticulously checking it.

"A little bitch of a mechanic who used to work for the Rollerz… he was there when Lin was killed." I said bluntly but refusing to elaborate. Carlos nodded and didn't press me.

"What's the plan?"

"I'll go up there, put myself out of sight and wait for him. You stay in the area, wait for my call." I said, pulling out the clip and checking to see it was full.

"You sure you wanna head up there alone?" Carlos said quickly. I gave him a very flat look.

"_Shaundi_ could take this guy." I said coolly, "Don't patronise me."

Carlos looked adequately abashed at my tone, "Sorry Boss. I didn't mean to imply- uh… hey, I _know_ you're a badass, s-"

I held up my hand and nodded, and he stopped rabbiting on for a moment. But only a moment.

"That um, that reminds me," Carlos said, digging his hand into his pocket, drawing out the small package of tissue I noticed from before. He unfolded the wafery paper, tipping out a thin chain which pooled in his palm. He carefully lifted to straighten out and hold it out to me. It was a necklace, with a funny little pendant hanging from it. I narrowed me eyes at it, reaching to put my palm behind it and study it.

"Who's it from?" I asked curiously – the pendant was actually two medallions, I'd seen a few of the Hispanics wearing similar ones.

"Whaddyou mean?" Carlos asked quizzically, releasing the chain to drop the necklace into the palm of my hand. I glanced up to it.

"Who's it _from_?" I repeated, unsure how to be any clearer, "Did you get it from one of the Brotherhood or something? What's it for?"

Carlos blinked, confused.

"It's not… it's for _you_." He said quizzically. I raised an eyebrow and looked to it. He was just _giving_ me this? What for?

"What like a present?" I asked, frowning.

"You don't like it?" he asked. I looked to him – he seemed upset.

"Nah it's cool," I said dismissively, narrowing my eyes to study the pendant. Pendants. There were two little medallions, one an image of a little woman in a robe, another of a man. "Who are they?"

Carlos leant in to me to indicate to them, relived that I hadn't rejected it. "The woman is _Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe_... Mother Mary. The man is Saint Leonard. They're for protection," he said, smiling at me. I raised an eyebrow.

"You know I'm not Catholic right?" I said. I wasn't religious at all. He sighed and seemed to be getting exasperated. I looked back to the necklace, finally coming to terms with the fact that someone had just given me a gift.

"I know you're not, but I am," Carlos said with a tired smile, "And I chose St Leonard for a reason, he's the Patron Saint of criminals."

I snorted, looking at him with raised eyebrows and a wry smile, "C'mon, you're not serious." I said. He just smiled back, one hand over his heart, another in a salute to swear. "It's a bit of an oxymoron, isn't it?" I continued. Carlos shrugged.

"A bit. But, you know, everyone deserves someone watching over them." He said, his smile softening. I looked at the necklace again – the chain was silver and delicate, just like the medallions. It was pretty enough without being girly – I decided I did like it.

"Alright." I caved, putting the clasp around my neck and flicking my ponytail out of the way, fiddling till it snapped shut. I ran my finger along the chain, smiling a little. "Thanks Carlos." I said, minding my manners. He was grinning.

"Just glad you like it," he said. There was a beat of silence in the car before I pushed the door open and stepped out onto the road, Carlos shifting over to the driver's seat.

"Aight. Remember, wait for _me_ to _call_ you." I said; he nodded mutely and I closed the door and started down the road.

* * *

><p>I sat on a concrete block, looking out over the water, my presence on the small pier masked by a large dumpster to my left. It had been nearly a half hour of waiting before I heard an engine, pricking my ears and shifting back against the wall, listening carefully as the car got closer, slowing and pulling up to a stop. Around the edge of the dumpster I spied the nose of a red car and heard the thud of the door.<p>

Then I saw him. Donnie, the sleeves of his red jumpsuit rolled up, a large wreath wrapped in his arms as he walked solemnly to the edge of the pier, looking down into the water, his back to me. His head was bowed, his lips moving to form words I couldn't hear, and I quietly got to my feet.

My sneakers were mute over the concrete as I crept up on him. He continued talking away, I keened my ears to hear him, but as I did, he stopped, shoulders sagging as he lifted the wreath. In a slow, reverent move, I saw him toss it into the harbour, his head bowing. The closer I got, the clearer his words were.

"Lin I… I miss you." He said softly. The notion made my blood boil, and I drew my gun, stepping up behind him and aiming my pistol carefully at the back of his skull. I wanted so badly to pull the trigger, but at the moment, I needed him. He noticed my shadow suddenly fall over him and he turned, gasping and freezing when he saw the barrel of the gun pointed between his eyes. I glowered at him.

"That's sweet Donnie. I missed you too." I said darkly. He gaped.

"Oh shit…"

I snarled at that, "You haven't seen me since your Boss shot me and stuffed me into the back of a car and the best you can give me is 'Oh shit'?" I shot angrily, forcing my trigger finger to be still. Donnie's eyes flickered around us for any sign of help; there was none.

"You're supposed to be dead" he said incredulously.

"That'll work." I said dryly, indicating with my gun, "Now walk to the car."

Donnie started walking to his Voxel, slowly bringing his hands up in surrender, "How'd you know I'd be here?" he said weakly. I shrugged impatiently.

"You're predictable."

"What do you want with me?" He whimpered, halting when he got to the car. Christ; and he thought he was in Lin's league?

"You're gonna do some pro-bono mechanic work," I said lightly, smiling at the thought of the job to come.

"What do you mean, 'pro-bono' work?" he begged and I dug the muzzle of the gun into his back, leaning forward to rip open the door of the Voxel and shoved him inside.

"I'm through answering questions." I growled.

* * *

><p>Like I'd expected, Donnie was so terrified for his own life it wasn't hard to get him to rig the prized Brotherhood trucks to explode, messing with the Nos tanks. Even when he saw bits and pieces of people flying through the air, he still couldn't find the balls to stand up to me. Little piece of shit… he actually thought he was good enough for Lin…<p>

I felt the Voxel rattle slightly as another Brotherhood truck exploded, sending a shockwave and debris after us, along with one or two of the little Swindles they drove.

"It's been years since I was with the Rollerz, can't you let it go?" Donnie begged as he looked back with horrified eyes on the carnage he'd created. I nearly sputtered at his words.

"_Let it go_?" I almost yelled, "You've gotta be shitting me Donnie."

"Look, I know you're pissed about Lin, I am too-"

"-Shut the _fuck_ up!" I actually yelled, adrenaline melting away any reserve I might have had, "…don't try and make this sound like you were a god damn victim, you could have stood up to Sharp-"

"- The _fuck _you m-_ARGH_!"

Donnie cried out and cradled his now bloodied nose, eyes tearing. I narrowed my eyes at him, flicking his blood from the back of my knuckles.

"Oh, I'm sorry; did the middle of my sentence interrupt the beginning of yours?" I asked with icy sarcasm. Donnie whimpered, cradling his face.

"Wha, what was I supposed to _do_?" he whimpered, "She was already dead-"

"-No, she fucking wasn't." I shot at him darkly, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "She was goddamn alive for a long time after that, waiting to be drowned in the trunk of that fucking car. She was _talking_ to me the whole time, Donnie." I snarled. Donnie was watching me, a hand over his nose and eyes huge and shining. I'm not sure if it was the punch to the nose or note, but I saw tears slip down his face. It only made me angrier – that little asswipe was _crying_ over Lin? How did _he_ get to cry for her? I felt my teeth grinding and I wanted to hit him again. I was speeding recklessly – I checked the rear-view mirror and saw my backup (lead by Carlos in my Venom) still trying to tail me as I swerved uncontrolled through the traffic, side-swiping other cars with Donnie's shitty Voxel. In my anger at him a sick wave of sadism lurched over me.

"You know what she said?" I growled at him, swerving sharply around a truck – the Brotherhood backup were having trouble keeping up with us, my Saints ramming them out of the way or leading them on other chases. "You want to know what she said to me the whole time, till she died?"

Donnie's shoulders were shaking – the tears weren't just from being hit. _Why did he get to cry and I didn't_? I continued darkly.

"You hear that asshole Donnie? Called me his girl!" I parroted, trying to re-create her lovely, husky voice; I was upsetting myself with it, but it felt too good to stop, "You know, I could have sworn she was actually happy about it – I would have believed it too if she wasn't a dyke." I said with a cold smile, "Well, there was the chance she might have batted for _both_ teams but she _never_ gave _me_ any sign of it." I finished, sparing his a sidewards glance from the road to gauge his reaction.

When Johnny admitted to me he'd thought for the whole of our acquaintance I was a lesbian I hadn't really figured where he was coming from – but it had made me think of Lin. And the way she would treat me ; she knew I looked up to her, my hero-worship of her was no secret. C'mon, she was beautiful, badass, ambitious and strong, and she protected me and taught me everything she knew. And as I was so easily repulsed by men touching me as opposed to females I think she, like Johnny, had just made the assumption about me. She'd never acted on it, not really. But there were moments – when she'd pulled me in to dance with her to disguise our conversations, or a lingering touch. Lin. It was the only time I'd ever really entertained the thought of a relationship with a woman, but I was still too raw from Seth to have ever considered it – to have considered _her_ properly.

"Why are you doing this?" Donnie whimpered, shaking me from my riviere. I felt my eyes narrow with fury and I continued, ignoring his questions-

"Well if she was so fucking important to you, wouldn't you want to know what happened? How she kept promising me she'd get me out of that trunk? How she held my hand till she died?"

The Voxel jolted violently as I turned off the tar onto the dirt road that ran by the docks, speeding towards the turn that would run us up to the Brotherhood hideout. I gripped the steering wheel far too tightly; I'd been trying to get at Donnie but now that night, that horrible night was wrapping itself around my mind and it was difficult to concentrate. I blinked when I saw the turn on the road and yanked the handbrake and the steering wheel, the car violently drifting on an almost 180 turn and smacking the end into a concrete pole. I shifted gears brutally to continue down the short boardwalk to the Brotherhood hideout, a huge empty factory down at the end of the dock, people who had been walking along leaping out of my way – I skidded to a halt and just began thumping Donnie wordlessly till he had the sense to throw open the door and scramble desperately out – once that vermin was out of my new car I slammed on the gas again, leaving the terrified mechanic to his tears, bloodied nose, and explanations to Maero.

* * *

><p><strong>Arrhhh. Getting this chapter up felt like unzipping your jeans after a huge Christmas dinner.<strong>


	20. S: Carlos

**I needed to shake things up. There'll be other chapters like this, probably one from each POV of the Lieutenants.**

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><p>"Okay, so what you got for me?" I asked, folding my arms. Manny shifted and took a long drink from his coke and I knew he was procrastinating.<p>

"Um… listen, Carlos the thing is-"

I dropped my head and sighed. "Manny, you can't be _doin_' this to me cous', I'm stickin' my neck out here for you."

Manny raised an eyebrow. "What, I thought the _chika_ liked you."

I looked up at him sharply and scowled, "That _chika_ is _The Boss_. You better remember that if you don't want her breaking your kneecaps." I said sharply. Manny only grinned at me and I sighed, trying to regain myself. I should have known recruiting from the family mightn't have been a good idea… Manny was a cousin (one of many) and we had been really tight when we were younger, like brothers. Only now he'd failed at pretty much everything in his life – after some guys came after him for gambling debts I tried to help him out by getting him taking care of business for the Saints for cash, and out of pity made him my right-hand man. Big mistake.

"I'm tryin Carlos, I swear," he said with a careless shrug, reaching down to his burger and taking a hearty bite. I looked to my own food, suddenly losing my appetite. Dammit… the Boss was relying on me; I wasn't going to let her down…

"Try _harder_" I said with exasperation, "You-"

My phone rang. It was the Boss' ringtone and I quickly whipped it from my pocket.

"Hey B-"

"_Carlos! Where are you?"_

I blinked – in the background a car engine was roaring – she was driving.

"Meeting with Manuel,"

"_WHERE_ _are you?_" she shouted again and I jolted.

"Freckle Bitch's downtown," I replied quickly. She was stressed - this was big.

"_Get your ass to Cocks. I need backup. Don't fuck this up, I swear to God-_"

I slipped quickly from the Booth, Manny looking up at me curiously and going to follow – I frowned at him and shook my head, indicating sharply for him to stay where he was.

"Carlos, wh-"

"Shuddup Manny! Just stay here!" I sad sharply and I turned, jogging quickly out to the parking lot and towards my Compton. "On my way, what's happening?" I said quickly into my cell, throwing the car door open and jumping inside.

"_Veteran Child's got Shaundi – he said he'd be at Cocks, ten to one it's a trap but there's not really an option here… Peirce is finding out where else he might've gone._"

I ripped the car into drive and began tearing away.

"I'll see you soon," I assured her, glaring and swerving around the cars, "Wh-"

She hung up on me before I could get another word out. I wanted to call her back but wasn't going to, instead focusing on driving and trying to call for backup. Not Manuel – I couldn't rely on him for her safety, it was too important. Christ. I have to re-work my crew…

I was usually pretty good when it came to driving – I enjoyed it so there was never really any reason rush (it maddened the Boss, particularly when I stopped at traffic lights), but she needed me now. Shit like road rules and pedestrians were only getting in my way at the moment as I ripped through the city – I couldn't even care when I felt my car scraping over the ones either side of me.

_She needed me_.

I turned down the cobble street that paved the high-end retail (shops I'd never gone into and probably never would), ripping another corner towards Cocks – it was this. Out the front I could see the Boss' car pulled up awkwardly onto the pavement (she was an amazing driver, better than anyone I'd known. Parking, on the other hand…) I felt a swell of dread when I saw the collection of lime green cars down the street – she had no damn backup but for me and I had no idea how far away my boys were. I yanked the car to a stop as pulled up into the lot of the club; I could see the entrance and leapt from the car, reaching into the back for the best guns I had snagging an SMG and Shepherd, eyeing off a few mini pipe bombs and flash-bangs that rolled around on the floor (really safe, I know), and snagged them, cramming them into my pockets. _Hold on nena_.

There was no real resistance till I was actually inside the club, fighting off the Samedi and working my way through to the dance floor before I spotted her –

She was Athena; a goddess of war, beautiful and deadly. It was distracting to a point – the lights of the club danced off her milky skin, broken only by the blood spatter over her face.

I could never figure out why guys always liked Shaundi better than her. Maybe because Shaundi was a little smaller, or more up for it, maybe because she was less dangerous and less in control and more of a damsel in distress (like she was right now) but the Boss… god _damn_. Shakespeare once compared women like doves and falcons in one of his plays; I could never remember which one. But he said a guy would have an aviary of doves, or one deadly, majestic falcon.

The Boss wasn't a falcon; she was a god damn pterodactyl. She ripped through the Samedi like an angel of vengeance, fighting with hatred for the people who were trying to hurt her friends. She leapt fearlessly onto one of the Sons, slamming the butt of her pistol into his face, and I heard her screaming at him, "_Where is she!_"

I felt a cold weight of fury drop into my stomach when I saw a Samedi running at her from behind and grabbed her by the hair – I swung my aim carefully as I could and fired at him, seeing him stumble in pain at the impact of the bullet and I fired again, taking him out.  
><em>No one<em> would touch her.

She looked at me with a small, grateful smile and I grinned helplessly back. It was this strange gentleness about her that she tried so hard to hide from people, but _I_ could see it. _Nena_… it was the only name I could give her other than Boss.

I wasn't as pious as my mother had been but… If there was a God, I believed he had led me to her. I was meant to keep her safe; the world had aligned that way. Why else would she have woken up the moment I got myself shanked to see her? I was made to do this. I was meant to protect her, this amazing person my brother had told me about, this woman who had once saved his life when he was fighting the Vice Kings.

I kicked up a coffee table onto it's side for cover and ducked behind it as I reloaded my gun, jutting out from the side and carefully firing at the Samedi, their bodies hitting the ground – there were soft whistles of bullets flying past me and a sharp burning feeling as one nicked my arm – nothing a stitch or two wouldn't fix. One by one they were silenced and there was no other sound but the music and whimpering of anyone still alive.

I ran to her as she walked back, furiously over the dance floor, sliding a little when she stepped into a pool of blood but recovered quickly. There was fire in her eyes as she looked about at the destruction she'd left in her wake.

"Fuck," she snarled impatiently as her phone rang. Her words were short and clipped on the phone to Pierce, and she hung up abruptly. Her eyes fixed me, meaning business.

"On Track." She said. I nodded mutely and ran with her back through the club to her waiting car; I threw open the door I clambered into the passenger seat instinctively – there was a familiar rumbling and I looked down the road, seeing a purple Bootlegger come rolling round the corner, the few familiar faces of my crew leaning out the windows of the car, one of them on the phone, and a second later, mine rang.

"Tasha," I greeted quickly. Tasha was my Cousin Maria's girlfriend; Pierce had actually recruited her but when she found out I was a Lieutenant she wound up rolling with me. She was tough and reliable too.

"_What's happening?_" she said, her voice steady, all business. In the background I could hear Reece and Jack talking loudly. I glanced sidewards as the Boss ripped the car into gear and slammed on the gas, flying back through the streets.

"Follow us, we gotta go to On Track," I said swiftly, and the Bootlegger behind us struggled to keep up.

"_Got it Carlos,_" she said. I hung up and jammed my phone back into my pocket.

On Track was a nightclub on the South Island, I'd been there a few times before. A fair drive from here but for the Boss it was no trouble as she shredded through the streets. I cleared my throat.

"So what's happened?" I voice uncertainly.

"That _fuckwit_ Veteran Child, the GenX DJ? Yeah. I knew he was in with the Samedi but… fuck… he must've figured out it was Shaundi who was clueing us in on them and now he's got her and…"

She lowered her head, scowling furiously and her knuckles were going white around the steering wheel.

"He was in the god damn hideout… just knocked her out and walked out of there with her and I…"

"Right Boss. She'll be safe," I said without thinking and putting a hand quickly on her shoulder, squeezing. I saw her hands relax a little and she nodded. Her beautiful, huge eyes flicked to me for so I continued, "Well, if he wanted her dead, she'd be dead, right?" I attempted, "You'll get her back." I assured her, and I believed it. This woman was capable of miracles. She nodded then for the briefest moment she smiled at me. She had a wonderful smile and she rarely used it… I felt her hand briefly on my arm in gratitude and the words spilled from me. Thankfully in a language she couldn't understand.

"_Eres la mujer de mis sueños,_"

Arrrgh. I was never more grateful that she couldn't understand me. I could tell her everything without jeopardising our relationship – she only ginned at me and shook her head.

"_One day_ Carlos," she said, "I'm gonna Google translate you."

I forced a smile, thinking '_I hope not_'.

We jolted over the bridge and down the long road through the South Island, the old engine roaring like a wild beast – she swerved with elegance, instinctively through the traffic, seeking out the club. I dropped my seat back and leaned into the back, hunting out weapons and ammunition. The Boss always had a good collection in the car, dumped in the back with a compilation of empty red bull cans or the occasional beer bottle, never knowing what would be needed for situation. Rifle ammo, flash bangs and a few handguns… I picked up a knife that was halfway under the seat, hunting for a sheath but found none, dropping it and grabbing the guns, checking ammo. The car jerked violently as she pulled into the lot of On Track, skidding to a halt, slamming the trunk hard into a parked car when she did.

She'd gone the whole way, squeezing between cars and speeding through tiny spaces without hitting a single thing, but it came to parking and _wham_. Maybe she just didn't care.

I threw the car door open and watched her for a lead – she barley glanced about the lot; she flicked a soft lock of black, liquid hair from her brilliant blue eyes. "Gat should be here soon," she said (and I actually felt a flash of disappointment) "You follow me in, but you're backup. _I'm_ taking that ass-fucker V-child out myself." She snarled.

That's my girl. I followed her in, hearing my crew's Bootlegger down the short street as they finally caught up.

Inside the club the music thudded loudly, and the Samedi sprouted from the crowd drawing guns and firing on us – we both took cover and I was careful to pluck them off, watching the ones that were after the Boss and jogged down after her has she made her way down the concrete and glass stairs into the multi-levelled basement that was On Track; heavy house music thrummed from the speakers in the walls. I heard shouts behind me as Tasha and the guys got there, wiping out the last of the Samedi and following down the stairs to cover me. The Boss dashed ahead of me and I looked through the glass bottom from my vantage point on the wraparound balcony, seeing a dreadlocked guy holding Shaundi firmly across his chest, a gun to her head. Veteran Child – I'd only ever heard him on the radio; he didn't seem like such a tough guy, probably because he was having to hide behind a girl rather than facing the Boss like a man. She had her aim on him but was dancing about awkwardly; she wasn't going to risk Shaundi's life. I quickly reached into one of my pockets, grabbing the flash bomb. Perfect.

I was still firing at the Samedi backup, an SMG in one hand and the flash bang in the other – I clicked the trigger, dropping it over the side where Veteran Child was moving closest to.

There was a slight shockwave as it went off; when I opened my eyes I searched for the Boss, who was stumbling, a hand over her eyes. I swore bitterly at myself – I should have warned her... My gaze was narrowed as she tried to pluck off Veteran Child, who in shock had let go of Shaundi. He regained his senses and spied her, grabbing Shaundi's neck and yanking her back in, putting her vulnerable form between himself and the Boss. She wasn't deterred this time, sparing me the briefest of glances and nodding as she ducked behind a pylon, a spray of bullet holes appearing on the concrete from the shotgun. I gritted my teeth and quickly grabbed the second flash bang, tossing it from my vantage point to the ground floor and covering my eyes, a hot flash welling over my skin and hearing a faint ringing. There was a clatter of noise above me, the unmistakable sound of a shotgun. I quickly looked back to the Boss and she was firing furiously at Veteran Child who had again released Shaundi, only now his body was jerking with every shot that hit him. He slumped to the ground and Shaundi dropped her knees a little away from him, grabbing her head and groaning. I grinned, the brutal noise of the fight ceasing as the Samedi lay dead at our feet. I glanced to my crew; Tasha and Jack were raiding the bodies of the dead Samedi; Reece was walking up to me, a hand over his shoulder.

"Hey man, I think I got a bullet wedged in here," he said blasé, turning his back to me so I could inspect his shoulder blade. I was always astounded at Reece's pain threshold…

There was a clattering from the stairs which caught my attention; Gat came thundering down, scowling, and looking about at the club. He gave a dramatic sigh and threw his hands into the air, shotgun waving carelessly.

"Well fuck." He said, scowling, "All dressed up and no one to kill…"

I had to grin a little and shake my head as I checked out the gouge on Jack's shoulder – no bullet, and it wasn't bleeding too much.

"Sorry we couldn't save any for you," I said, but Gat was already starting further down the stairs to the Boss.

Gat was a hard guy to hate, though _I_ personally found it wasn't too easy to like him either. I knew it was only jealousy – he was the Boss' best and oldest friend _and_ right hand man, a position everyone coveted but… I guess me more than most.

I watched through the glass below my feet, the invisible force field. The Boss was on the ground with Shaundi who was looking about blearily, and Gat got there, crouched over them, and put an arm over the Boss' shoulder. I felt myself scowling;

It should have been _my_ arm around her.

"Easy Carlos," I heard Reece say next to me, pulling away and patting me heavily on the shoulder. I blinked and realised I must have been looking pretty pissed and he continued, "You did a good job man, she's aware of it. You need your arm looked at?"

I glanced down to my arm – the bullet from back at Cocks had actually seared most of the skin and muscle so it wasn't bleeding as much as if it had been cut, though there was a thin trail of dried blood from the cut to my elbow.

"No, I'm good." I said, looking back through the glass.

The Boss got to her own feet, dragging Shaundi up with her and (thankfully) shrugging off any help anyone tried to give. Shaundi slumped forward slowly as the Boss lead her, laughing with her friend.

"I can't believe you let that little bitch get the better of you," She said with a melodic chuckle. Shaundi only groaned.

"Did I mention my ex-boyfriend's a dick?" she said, slowly threading up the stairs and I moved to meet them,

"You alright Boss? I asked quickly, and she gave me a calm, satisfied smile, the kind she could only give me after a successful campaign.

"Yeah Carlos. Good job today sweetie," she said with a sigh, Shaundi leaning heavily against her and dragging her feet up the stairs and stepping gingerly over a few dead Samedi that were in the way. I followed them, shoulder-to-shoulder with Gat and Reece, hearing Tasha and Jack following a few paces behind.

"Yo thanks for lookin after her kid," Gat said lowly to me so the Boss wouldn't hear. As we walked past the bar he casually leant over and took a bottle without looking and I had to smile – he was the kind of irreverent everyone wished they could be. I often wish I could have been better friends with him; I probably could have but despite all my efforts I always felt like I was competing with him. Hah, competing with Johnny Gat, good luck.

"Just doing my job." I replied, "And I'm the same age as the Boss," I added – I hated when he called me 'kid'. Gat raised an eyebrow at me and for a moment I thought I saw him smile. He took a swig of the bottle – it looked like scotch – then offered it to me.

I didn't like scotch. I took a deep swig anyway, refusing to cringe at the burning, acrid sensation and passed the bottle on to Reece, who was watching us both carefully. Beside me Gat chuckled darkly.

"I'm pretty sure the girls are riding together – you need a lift?" he asked. Reece slowed at that, dropping back and I made the conscious decision to be friendly with Gat..

"Yeah actually, thanks,"

* * *

><p><strong>Just for something a bit different. I'm hoping I got Carlos down properly, I had to keep reminding myself there was stuff he wouldn't be saying and... yeah. Anyway, as mentioned before, there'll probably be a chapter each from Shaundi, gat and Pierce later on in the fic, probably whenever I get stumped or bored.<strong>


	21. Playtime

**This scene has been sitting on my computer for AGES. And I finally get to post it, hurrah!**

* * *

><p>Shaundi grunted and swung another kick against the pad I was holding against my leg. It made a feeble slap and she scowled, pushing a renegade dreadlock from her face.<p>

"Your foot's still hitting the bag, aim with the knee, strike with your shin. Don't forget to pivot your hips. That's where the power will come from," I said, shifting my weight to be more comfortable.

We were in the range, a large portion of which was now dedicated to being a make-shift gym; some boys had brought in equipment but it was all fairly rudimentary. Some weights, a pull-up bar, some punching bags. A little further up a small crowd of Saints were gathered around two bench presses and starting to make noise; Carlos was laid back on one, one of his shirtless friends on the other (Jack, i think his name was), pressing equal amounts, both straining as more weights were piled on. Johnny had clearly been mid workout himself but was now spotting Carlos, and Pierce had his friend. They were both yelling at the boys, who I now realised were in fierce competition with each other. Ten to one Pierce had something riding on this; he'd bet on anything that moved.

I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to Shaundi. Ever since her little encounter with Veteran Child I had her working daily on shooting, self defence, and now hand to hand. Her punches were improving and she was actually gaining a little muscle on her petite frame, but she was still kicking like a ballerina. Shaundi grunted and tried again, her shin striking but no real impact being made – if anything she bounded back. I sighed.

"Use your _hips_." I corrected. She tried again, making a little more impact, but had dropped her guard, arms waving like Mr Miagi. I slapped her on the head.

"Watch your guard." I teased, smiling darkly at the annoyed look she was shooting me.

"Why don't you _show_ me Boss? Seeing as you're such an expert at kickboxing." I sighed and pulled back.

"Not _expert_. Knowledgeable, sure, but my specialty is in fighting dirty," I said. Shaundi folded her arms, clearly fed up. I rolled my eyes, a roar of cheers erupting behind me. I glanced over my shoulder seeing, an exhausted Carlos grinning as he sat up, white singlet stuck to his skin with sweat, gluing onto his muscles, Johnny grabbing his hand and holding it high. His opponent was lying back on the bench, breathing heavily and receiving a few consolation pats, having been the first to give up and Pierce was shaking his head, looking like he'd just lost a _lot_ of money. The small band of Saints began to disperse, some slapping money into other's hands. One girl clad in purple sat down on the bench next to Carlos, sliding up to him batting eyelashes and receiving a bashful smile from him. I found myself annoyed at that, but wasn't one to cock-block.

"Johnny!" I called out across the range-come-gym. He glanced up and indicated briefly to Carlos with a smile. I nodded with a little exasperation and beckoned him over, unable to help but perve a little as he approached. His shirt was off, track pants low on his hips. I forced my eyes up to his face; he wasn't wearing his glasses and his dark, exotic eyes were bared. They were narrowed at me. I waved a hand in front of his face as he reached us.

"Flying blind?" I asked. He raised an eyebrow, mouth terse with a small smile.

"I'm _workin out_ Boss." He said.

I thrust the kick bag to him, "Hold this," I said, settling in to a fighters' stance. Johnny rested it against his leg.

"That's all, seriously?" he said, clearly expecting something more important than being a punching bag and wondering why I hadn't grabbed someone else. I _was_ going to call for Carlos but... well. he looked like w=he was making a new friend. Again, I didn't cock-block. Johnny grinned slyly at us, "Oh, right, you girls just wanted a ticket to the gun show," he teased and I noticed he was actually flexing a little, veins rising on his arms. Shaundi gave a small laugh and was unashamedly checking him out; I rolled my eyes and punched him playfully on the arm which was unnecessarily hard.

"Actually, just wanted to congratulate you on finally getting some chest hair." I teased, "Or do you wax?"

"Just kick the fuckin bag Boss."

Done needling each other, I looked over to Shaundi.

"Right, watch my feet," I said, settling into position, knees relaxed. "I step out, front foot points to where I'm kicking, bring my back knee out and up to put it in position," I said, moving very, very slowly through the kick, pausing at each stage to show her how my body was moving, "Right arm drops back for balance, left comes across to guard, then snap out and drive the kick," I said, placing my shin against the pad and then stepped back. Shaundi was nodding intently; Gat was staring at me incredulously.

"_That_ is what you dragged me over here for?" he said. I shot him a sly sidewards glance.

"No. _This_ is what I called you over here for." I said, stepping forward and landing three, heavy, consecutive kicks, SNAP SNAP SNAP the loud heavy thuds of my shin against the kick pad echoing around the gym. Gat grinned and nodded in approval, having moved about as much as the Rock of Gibraltar would have; most people would have faltered.

"Now that's more like it." He said, and then nodded at Shaundi, who was carefully mimicking my movements. "Your turn."

Shaundi's face screwed up with determination, she carefully planted her foot, and then with a mighty swing, struck the pad, a satisfying thud replacing the usual slap sound. Johnny glanced up at me and nodded, and we looked to her, smiling like proud parents.

"You got the feel for it now?' I asked, and Shaundi nodded, eyes bright. I stepped up in front of Gat.

"Once you got that, you just sort of move with it, feel the flow," I said, "Throw in a switch,"

My feet quickly jolted to south-paw and I threw my left kick, Gat only just having the sense to swing the bag around to his other leg before it impacted. From that I moved easily and threw another right kick, Gat ready for it this time and swung the bag back into position, then lifted it higher up to his side. I threw kick after kick, mixing it up a little with a knee or two, enjoying the flow of movements. Gat watched me intently and moving the bag quickly to wherever my shin was going to land. Eventually, getting a little enthusiastic, I swung my leg high, only to find instead of hitting the kick bag, Gat had grabbed me by the ankle, my foot almost in line with his chin.

"No headshots Boss," he warned, an eyebrow raised. I hopped a little.

"Let go now," I said. I saw his mouth twitch playfully, but after a moment he released my ankle. I gave a deep breath after my small burst of exertion.

"I… don't think I can do that _just_ yet," Shaundi said, eyes wide after watching my performance. I shrugged, turning towards the short table sitting along one wall to grab a bottle of water. Behind me I heard Gat talking to her,

"You shouldn't. Boss there really should be teaching you some more basic self defence, how to get outta situations."

"I can _hear _you Gat," I drawled, unscrewing the cap off a bottle and pouring the water down my throat. He continued regardless.

"For example, how do you get out of a hold when someone grabs you from behind?"

I was vaguely aware that he sounded closer; then suddenly a hand was in my hair, bunching into a fist and pulling me back. I coughed out some water in surprise, and then turned; forcing myself towards him as he dragged me back, my hair twisting and I rammed an uppercut into his stomach. He gave a heavy grunt when I did, and we paused in that position for a moment, his torso crumpled over the top of me.

"See, at this point she'd usually have a knife, stabbin' me up under the ribs and into the chest," Gat informed our student with some strain, and I felt myself grin, "Lucky for me she don't, cos now I can do this,"

He released my hair and suddenly two thick arms were around my waist, lifting my body up and with a wave of inertia I felt myself flip and the world inverted, my knees slinging over his shoulder, my back pressed to the front of his abdomen. His arms were secured around my waist and I hung upside down like a rag doll. "Drop her down, crack her head open." He said to Shaundi, who was staring at me, gaping.

I sighed, not particularly impressed with my current position with the floor as the ceiling, but not annoyed enough to actually do anything about it. "Gat, _what_ are you doing?"

"Playing." He purred, and I could hear his grin, "A man can only be used as a punch bag for so long."

"_Sixty seconds_ is your threshold?" I asked incredulously. He just laughed. Fine. If that's what we were doing, I was happy to play along. I swung one of my legs over to his other shoulder and heaved myself up, curling up over his head and clambering onto his shoulders – he struggled quickly but I was glued to him, hands gripping around his head and turning his neck tightly – he froze – a little more pressure and I could probably have snapped a few vertebrae.

"_Or_," I said, looking over to Shaundi who had a hand over her mouth, unsure if she should be laughing, "You can choke them, or break their neck."

"Though I gotta admit, getting killed by a woman with her thighs wrapped around my head don't seem like such a bad way to go."

"Gross, Johnny."

I felt Gat's hands on my hips again and he attempted to pry me off, leaning forward like he was shaking bugs out of his hair. I grinned, and aside from feeling one foot slip down his back I stuck to his shoulders like a limpet. He sighed and straightened,

"What the _hell_ are you two doing?" I heard Pierce's voice from behind. Johnny turned us to look at him and I realised we must have looked… odd. He stood there with two other Saints, one of them the girl Carlos had been speaking to, she seemed disgruntled. Carlos himself had disappeared…

Pierce gestured with his hands as if to hurry our explanation.

"… Sparring?" I offered, and felt Gat's laugh match my own. Pierce just threw a look past us to Shaundi.

"Last chance Boss," Gat warned. I was feeling a little too cocky at that moment.

"C'mon Johnny, what opponent will let you go if you ask nicely? We're supposed to be _teaching_ _her_." I said, nodding to Shaundi, who was still watching us with bright eyes and shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.

She piped up when I indicated to her, "Yeah but I don't think any of this is really a practical way of fighting," she said with a slight giggle.

"Yeah, practical ended a while ago," Johnny said. I wasn't sure I liked the sound of that. "Ready Boss?"

"For what?" I asked, a little too late. He lurched and threw his weight back; I felt us falling and let out a small surprised sound, knowing what was coming next. I landed flat on the mat, the air being slammed out of my chest as Johnny's head impacted my belly. I heard a collected "OOH!" from our small audience and I curled over, for all the world feeling like I was in the middle of a WWE wrestling match. Johnny sat up and threw a grin over his shoulder.

"Ugh, _asshole_." I groaned "You head butted me in the freaking _uterus_."

We both got to our feet and stood next to each other, me still hunched over a little with my hands on my knees and trying to breath, the wind having been knocked out of me - dammit, he'd just about paralyzed my diaphragm. I glared up at Johnny who was speaking to Shaundi with a great deal of bravado, Pierce and his couple of friends actually clapping the bastard.

"And _that's _how you - _OOPH_"

He buckled over as I flicked a backhanded punch into his nuts. Not enough to cripple but enough to punish. The few Saints gave another pantomime-audience reaction, some loud "OOH"s or sympathetic groans and winces from the guys and a very hearty laugh from Shaundi.

"If _I'm_ not having kids neither are you," I said with a breathless laugh. He put a hand against the wall and leant there for a moment taking a few deep breaths, finally looking over his shoulder to me.

"You are goin' _down_ boss." He warned. I felt myself grin.

"Any time now guy," I teased, but really wanting to sit down and nurse my insides a little.

"Oh sure, any time," he said, managing a dangerous smile, "I just ain't gonna tell you when."

I laughed, though it hurt to, and nodded. "Shaundi, I think that'll do it for today," I said, straightening myself up finally. Gat pushed off the wall, chin held high as he tensely walked back to the small group, slapping a hand onto my shoulder. I was still smiling; it had been fun, if painful.

"Beer?" I offered him.

"Make it a scotch."

* * *

><p><strong>Teehee<strong>


	22. B: Nuclear Warfare

**A huge shout out to my lovely reviewers; I realised I should have done this for the 20th chapter anniversary but… eh. I went back a few days ago and read over some of my earlier stuff (Birth of a Saint and the early chapters of this fic), and kind of get the feeling I've matured a bit as a writer. This is why I wanted to thank you guys; you inspire me and make me push myself.**

**JoeEngland, your previous advice has been _invaluable,_ MDGeistMD02 and HeartWritingM, I love your fics and it's great to know such fantastic writers are reading a liking my stuff, AngelVamp6688, thank you for sticking by me and reviewing as often as you do, it always brightens my day, and of course DoubleH19, it's been great writing my fic alongside yours and seeing what mischief Mercedes gets up to every week!**

**Earlier chapters I would think that anything more than four pages would be getting too long and tedious, but now I feel like I'd be cheating you guys if I wrote anything _less_. So again, thankyou all for inspiring me.**

**ON ANOTHER NOTE I've been getting a few questions and hints about Johnny, but I'm not big on spoilers, so I'll say this: Johnny is by far my _favourite_ character (wink wink), and as for what I'll be doing with him in any SR3rd stuff I write, _I don't think he's actually dead_. Remember people, we never saw a body! (unless you count the zombie, which I don't, because it was never really part of the storyline...)**

* * *

><p>When I stepped on the carriage the first thing that hit me was the stank of piss and petrol; rush hour was long over so there were very few people actually on the train, still, I wasn't about to sit down. I glanced down the carriage and spotted Carlos, standing a short way down, his back to me, trademark skull cap covering his hair. I strolled down to him and sighed.<p>

"Why are we meeting on the el?" I asked. Carlos shrugged but didn't turn to me.

"Cos I wanted to get out of the goddamn sewer." He replied and I strained to hear him.

"… and why are you lookin away?"

I glanced over his shoulder. "In case, y'know, you're being followed."

I felt my eyes roll – God, _seriously_? "This isn't a goddamn spy movie Carlos, could you turn around?" He turned sheepishly to look at me and I continued, "What've you got for me?"

"Nothing." He said quickly, unable to look me in the eye. My jaw dropped.

"Are you shitting me?" I stressed and Carlos frowned – he opened his mouth as if to say something but checked himself before he continued.

"Listen, I tried everything I could," He pressed, finally looking me in the eye, "what was I supposed to do?"

I leaned in to him and scowled, "Try harder."

Carlos looked away from me again and I tried to get my temper under control. I studied him for a moment – he was holding something back from me. "What happened?" I pressed.

Carlos' mouth pulled into a slight grimace, "After that shit you pulled with Donnie the Brotherhood are keeping a tight lid on what they got cooking." He said, "I heard one or two guys mention a shipment, but beyond that it looks like we're back to square one."

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. "Which is?"

"We know they like trucks and tattoos."

Oh for _fucks_ sake! "You're on my short list and you're giving me tattoos and trucks?" I snapped. How long had he had to work on these assholes and this was the best he was giving me?

"And the shipment," He added but his Bambi eyes were still cast to the ground.

"Which you know nothing about." I shot back, scowling. I dropped my head, trying again to control my temper – I didn't want to be mad at him. There was a beat of silence before I continued, "Look, Carlos, I like you, I do," I said, putting a hand on his shoulder. He suddenly brought his eyes up to meet mine – he seemed hopeful, weirdly. I continued, "…but you got a lot to learn about being a lieutenant."

"I wish I had more to give you," Carlos said lowly. He had that look again, like the one I'd seen the night we busted out of jail, a look he gave me once or twice after when he thought he'd let me down. My anger quickly depleted to annoyance and I looked away, sighing.

"Believe me, so do I." I grumbled. "But fuckit, we'll figure something out."

Carlos fell silent next to me as I stared out the window, the city flying by us. Dammit Carlos… I knew he was capable, and that he had potential. But I was done giving Maero chances – when his crew killed Dom and threw him at our feet they'd declared war, and now my lieutenant had squat on the enemy. I guess the best I could do at the moment was a show of strength. Or pure insanity. A giant side show freak like him, I'd need to do something dramatic. I looked out through the city as the train passed a building, the view giving way to the ocean and the island housing the tall cooling towers of Stilwater's nuclear power pla-

I grinned darkly.

"What is it?" Carlos asked, nudging me and following my gaze out to the plant.

"I got an idea." I said threateningly and for a moment felt like giving a villainous laugh. _If I could pull this off_… "Maero said he had a lot of canvas left. I'm gonna splatter paint all over it."

The train pulled up to the station and the plan was quickly coming together in my head. Geiger counter from Friendly Fire, maybe a jet ski to get to the island, bolt cutters, lead gloves, and… some kind of container…

"I'm hitting that island tonight," I said, "You organise me an escape plan." Carlos blinked and looked to the plant.

"What, _Nuke_ Island?" he said, incredulous. I only grinned my assurance back at him as the train came to a grinding halt, doors sliding open and I slipped out onto the platform, turning to look at him.

"Don't worry Carlos." I said coolly, "I'll make a banger out of you if it kills me."

* * *

><p>So far, so good.<p>

Getting to the island hadn't been a problem, and since it was the dead of night there were few patrols; a few guards here and there, so long as I dodged the lights and kept to shadows it wasn't too hard to get around (just a lot of ground to cover). I didn't have backup this time; in fact the only other person who even knew I was here was Carlos, who was back in Stilwater waiting for my call.

I shrugged my duffle up higher onto my shoulder, checking the Geiger counter. The little needle was starting to wobble a bit more and it was crackling. In retrospect this probably wasn't the brightest thing I'd ever done, but to be honest, once you survive being shot and stuffed in the trunk of a car, run over by a semitrailer, blown up on a boat, broken out of jail, broken _into_ jail, strangled, stabbed at, shot at… you start feeling a little invincible.

So when I snapped the bolt cutters through the fencing and made a slow crouch-run to the barrels of toxic waste, I _could_ have been more concerned. I also might have been more careful not to spill quite so much, but hey, it isn't easy to be dexterous when you're wearing lead gloves. I carefully screwed the cap back onto the soup thermos and wrapped it up in a towel (yeah, I know, cos it would help _so_ much if it leaked) then stuffed it carefully back into my bag, along with the lead gloves I slipped off my fingers.

"Target acquired," I murmured with myself with a smile. It was nice having some alone time, particularly when you're dressed up like a modern day ninja and creeping around a nuclear power plant. I felt like Cat Woman, every stitch of clothing on me the darkest black. Comfy, lightweight boots, fitted pants still easy enough to move in, long tank top, lightweight leather cropped jacket, fitted gloves and, of course, a balaclava with thick black war paint sloshed over my eyes. All I needed were some cat ears and a whip. I felt _damn_ sexy actually. Some people danced around in their underwear miming into their iPod when they were alone. I did this.

Sticking to the shadows I started back for the docks, halting when I saw more guards congregated and pointing down to the water, right where my jet ski would have been. I cringed. _Maybe_ I should have hidden that better… they were getting on their walkie-talkies and starting to disperse. They'd be looking for me now.

I ducked back into and alley, quickly trying to get my bearings. There was a helipad not far, I knew that. Or I could try and get down to the docks from the north end of the island… docks would be quieter, surely? I made little Jackie Chan moves from alley to alley.

Maybe I could be a supervillain, like in the comic books. I mean, I didn't exactly have the right morality for super_heroism_. But supervillain? Minus the whole, 'Destroy the world for no good reason' thing?

I mean the only real difference between regular villains and supervillains was presentation. You know, a gimmick. I could get a gimmick. Maybe I could wear a cape!

…

And _that's_ why I should bring backup on these missions… stops me playing DC Comic Book Adventures in the middle of raiding a nuclear power plant. I mean a cape? Pffft, that was just impractical.

"STOP RIGHT THERE!"

I cringed. Stupid wandering mind… I looked quickly over my shoulder, seeing two guards drawing guns and I drew my own, seeing him start speaking into a walkie-talkie. I fired quickly, taking the guards out and started running and pulling out my phone. Carlos didn't even ask when I answered it.

"_On our way boss!"_

I hung up wordlessly and just started sprinting, keeping my ears keen for any sound of guards or patrols, racing my way towards a fire escape and threw myself up them. Maybe I should take up parkour? It looked like fun and would definitely be useful in this situ-

_Focus_ dammit!

I scraped up onto the roof of the building, hearing shouts far below me and ducking as a searchlight swept my way. In the distance I thought I could hear the sound of a chopper, hopefully my ride. A few rooves across and thankfully with no roads, only alleys between, I could see the brightly illuminated helipad, a few guards crawling around. I took a few deep breaths and stretched my arms, then cracked my neck. Okay Catwoman, let's do this.

I started running, springing from one rooftop to another; I hopped over them, ducking behind and air vent when I got close to a guard, breathing heavily and checking around the corner. His back was turned- in a swift low crouch I snuck up and got the drop on him, wrapping my arms around his head and with a violent twist snapped his neck, continuing to run and with a burst of strength leapt onto the next rooftop, rolling and ducking behind an elevated skylight, breathing heavily.

God _damn_ this was exciting!

I checked around quickly – the helicopter was getting closer, and had finally gotten the attention of the search lights, the rooftop guards starting to fire at it. Looks like stealth wasn't going to be so easy anymore. I got up and started running again, the helicopter a great distraction as I jumped to the next rooftop. This one was a little further than I'd anticipated; my foot scraped the edged and a sudden wave of fear gripped me as I slipped down. I threw my arms forward and griped the edge, body slamming into the wall hard and I grunted. Yanking myself up and over I rolled onto the concrete then to my feet, no time to rest. I pulled my knife from my belt.

The guard barely heard my footsteps before I was on him, tearing the blade across the skin of his throat to silence him. The body crumpled beneath me and I crouched on it, looking around rapidly for the next target, a guard who was still firing on the chopper. My eyes flicked from rooftop to rooftop; they couldn't land like this…

Drawing my gun I checked the clips of ammo on my thigh-holster. Then narrowing my eyes, I took aim, carefully plucking them off, one by one, trying not tot spare more than three bullets each. The ones further away weren't easy and if I did hit them at all I doubted it was fatal… man, I needed a sniper rifle.

The chopper finally continued it's decent, undeterred by the sporadic gunfire from below. It had happened so quickly, there was little chance of a swift response from the security. I dashed for the helipad, jumping down to it from the small ledge and ducking my head as the chopper lowered without actually touching down. Carlos was already in the back, holding his hand out to me from the open side door and I reached up, gripping his wrist tightly and clambering up as he pulled me up, and I spilled heavily on top of him to the safety of the helicopter which rapidly climbed up and away from the island.

I looked around the dark hold of the chopper for weapons; Carlos made a small noise beneath me and I rolled off him in case I'd been crushing him. He coughed and quickly scrambled up close to the cockpit, his gun drawn. He didn't look at me when he spoke.

"You alright Boss?" he asked quickly. I nodded.

"Yeah, no problem." I said, ripping the balaclava from my head and grabbing a rifle that was hooked onto the wall and checking its ammo. I crawled over the floor with it to the open side door, flopping a leg out and threading my torso through a belt hanging from the side, eyes peeled for the cops that would inevitably be coming after us. I glanced over my shoulder to Carlos who was leaning past the front seats towards the cockpit and I raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, can't help but notice you're threatening our pilot," I suggested after noticing the glint of his pistol.

"Yeah, well, Tobias was busy," he explained quickly. I cringed, then leant back out of the chopper, beginning to fire at the few boats and single helicopter they'd managed to assemble to come after us.

The flight back had been initially uneventful till the other helicopter got a few good shots in to the rotor of our ride, alarms beginning to sound dangerously through the machine and it began to descend faster than was safe. We were only just over the main island but I realised a crash landing in water would have been a lot safer than in the middle of the road. It didn't stop the chopper rattling and jerking its way down, landing with a heavy _crunch_ and the rotors still spinning as it battered against he ground like a dying dragonfly. Carlos had grabbed my arm and I held onto his as we jumped from the side door and landed with a heavy thud on the road, ducking and scrambling out of the way as the chopper continued to flail. Everything was happening too fast to slow down now; the cops would be on us any moment and we needed every second we could get. A car rounded the corner and came to a screeching halt at the sight and I ran for it, Carlos close behind, blindly flinging the door open. The man inside gaped and wrenched the gears, starting to reverse before I smacked him and forced him out of the car.

As I fastened myself into the driver's seat and Carlos slipped in shotgun, the man started shouting at me.

"What did you do with the last two?" he screamed after us as my foot hit the gas and we tore away. I spared a glance in the rear view mirror in surprise at the somewhat familiar face. I mean _really_, what were the chances, right?

* * *

><p>Carlos had been pretty good at keeping the cops off of us; the second a rouge officer or patrol spotted us and gave chase he took them out, scowling as he carefully aimed. My heart thumped swiftly in my chest as I swerved up into the factories district, an area I knew well. I jerked the handbrake and swerved around a corner into an old garage, grinding the car to a halt, sudden silence enveloping the car. In the far distance, the sound of sirens began to fade as they hunted for us elsewhere, off on a wild goose chase.<p>

I leant forward and folded my arms over the steering wheel, breathing heavily to try and get off the high of adrenaline. The problem with that is, the little bumps, cuts and bruises begin to complain. I glanced to Carlos to check to see if he was ok; he'd pushed his skull cap from his head and lost the jacket, grinning, and eyes wide with the same rush I was feeling. I grinned.

"Helluva way to spend a Saturday night," I said with a laugh. He just grinned back and laughed nervously,

"Yeah… never a dull moment with you, huh?" he asked with a broad grin. It faltered for a moment when he studied my face, and then his thumb came up to wipe something from my cheek – I winced a little as he brushed a sore spot.

"Sorry Boss," he said quickly, "You had a uh, a cut. A bit of blood there."

I quickly raised my own hand to gingerly touch my cheek, fingers touching the sore, tacky surface where an impact cut had been made over my cheekbone. Ugh, that would bruise…

But in touching the cut, my hand covered his – and Carlos suddenly leaned in closer. I felt myself flinch at the movement and he stopped, but his hand was still cupping my cheek. I brought my gaze up to his dark brown eyes, which seemed to be searching my face.

I'll admit, at this point I really had no idea what was going on. It should have been obvious – it _would_ have been obvious to _any_ young woman what would happen next. But somehow, I still managed to be completely surprised when Carlos pressed his lips gently onto mine.

I blinked, and gasped a little in surprise causing my lips to part, and I felt him press further onto me. His hand moved to my jaw line, fingertips of his other hand brushing my waist.

I quickly pulled away from the kiss, stunned and my skin prickling nervously – it was one of those mind blowing moments of realisation that caused me to re-examine several memories of him at once. I quickly undid my seatbelt, the car suddenly very small.

"I need to get to the tattoo parlour," I said quickly, pushing the door open. Carlos looked like he was going to say something but I cut him off, "Be at Matt's in fifteen minutes,"

And I closed the door, turning quickly on my heel and swinging my bag onto my shoulder as I left. Behind me Carlos shifted into the driver's seat and the car's tyres crunched over the gravel and he pulled out of the garage.

Whoa.

My fingertips came to my lips as I jogged over the gravel to the street, tired legs beginning to burn as I made my way towards Matt's parlour, fishing in my bag for a lock pick – breaking in would cause too much suspicion.

Carlos _kissed_ me. Without my permission at that. I should have slapped him. That's what you do in those situations, right?

The sky was beginning to lighten on the horizon and in the distance I could still hear the wailing of sirens; I ducked down the back alley, halting then I found the back door, paint peeling from it. I crouched at the door, carefully threading the pick into the lock and gently twisting till it gave a satisfying click and opened, letting me in to the back room of the tattoo parlour and I began searching for the ink stashes. From what I'd seen, Matt took a kit _with_ him to Maero's hideout whenever he had to do work for him and Maero's tattoos were only red and black, so it was no question which inks to dose.

Did I mind Carlos kissing me? I felt frustrated that I hadn't noticed anything before, but it just wasn't my style. It wasn't that I _wasn't_ fond of him, I'd just never thought about anyone like that in a long time. Anyone. My fingers brushed my lips again and I felt a small thrill over my skin. No, no I didn't mind Carlos kissing me. I used to love kissing and… everything that tended to follow it… and admittedly felt some relief that I wasn't repulsed by it now. And the idea that he _liked_ me… well, a girl's gotta be flattered, right?

I spied a black zip-pack and opened it, seeing a plethora of tools and inks inside. All black and red, clearly the Brotherhood special. I felt a dark smile curl around my lips and began hunting through my bag for the right tools, and the waste that had been scooped into a thermos. I'm glad I failed chemistry; if I hadn't I'd probably have good cause to be scared right now.

He'd kissed pretty well. I mean I was rusty and non-responsive to him, but he'd been pretty good. Maybe… maybe I wouldn't mind him doing it again?

I quickly checked the time on my phone – it was six am, I had to get out of there and fast. I'd finished dosing the inks; meticulously putting them back precisely as I found them, packing everything else away in my bag and slipping out the back door again. I stopped by a dumpster, dropping the satchel into it and scanning the road for Carlos.

I mean, how _did_ I feel about him? I liked him, sure, but I'd never looked at him in a romantic sense. Did I even _want_ to? I thought back to that conversation I'd had with Gat, the moment I felt afraid that I'd lost the ability to connect with people like that, and was repulsed by the idea of such an intimate touch. But I didn't mind Carlos kissing me… so maybe I could still make that connection…?

I spied Carlos pull up alongside the curb, quickly waving me over. I jogged up to the car and jumped into the passenger seat. We didn't really talk as he tore away to the Red Light district. I glanced sidewards at him. Well, he _was_ pretty good looking. And he was a nice guy. Could I give it a try? Was there still a chance I could be… normal? In that sense?

The car ride was long and silent, but I didn't really mind, I was busy thinking. We eventually pulled up outside the hideout, and I pushed the car door open, but paused as I went to get out. I opened my mouth to speak to him but he cut me off.

"Look, Boss, I'm sorry about before," he said rubbing a hand over the back of his purple scull cap that he'd pulled back on over his curls. I felt my brow crease and drummed my nails on the car door and he continued, "I get that I overstepped the line, and, you know, it's no disrespect to y-"

I leant back over and carefully pressed my lips onto his. His surprise was only momentary, and I felt him smile broadly onto my mouth and he kissed me back, his tongue barely brushing my bottom lip. A rapid thrill ran up my spine, a sensation I hadn't felt in years, and parted my lips further, letting him deepen the kiss, relishing the taste as his tongue slipped over mine. His hand ran gently over my hair, letting a lock twist between his fingers.

I eventually pulled away from him, feeling a smile inching onto my face. I wasn't thinking of the possible ramifications at that point.

"So… thanks for the ride," I said, in lieu of anything else. Carlos was just trying not to grin at me.

"Yeah, no problem," he said as I stepped out of the car, "Nena," he added, and I threw him a look over my shoulder as he pulled away.

* * *

><p>I was about to step down the grand stairs when I spied a familiar figure in my study - Gat's back was to me as his attention was turned to the TV, his arms folded, shoulders occasionally shaking with a chuckle. He looked over his shoulder to me with a smile and raised eyebrows when he heard my footsteps.<p>

"What've you been up to Batgirl?" he asked slyly. I looked past him to the TV, a Breaking News headline reading 'Terror at Stilwater Nuclear Plant!'

I ran a hand over my eyes, and seeing the flecks of the black paint coming off on my fingers, "Nothing good," I said with a dark grin, which he in turn mirrored, "Spur of the moment thing," I added, knowing he'd ask why I left him out.

Johnny flopped down on the couch and I perched myself on the armrest opposite him, sitting my feet up on the cushion. He was watching me expectantly and I was all too happy to regale the story – Johnny chuckled and complained about missing out as I confessed the night's adventure to him enthusiastically, though I slowed as I began to get to the end of my story, starting to skip over details…

"So the chopper barely makes it back to the city, we pretty much crash, and Carlos and I jack this car trying to get away – I need to talk to him about planning getaways, y'know? So anyway, I'm driving through the truck yards and Carlos is shotgun, covering us, we finally loose the cops and hide the car in an old garage by the parlour," I said, hands weaving with my words. I then added like an afterthought, "Then Carlos kissed me, and I wen-"

"The _fuck?_" Johnny suddenly interrupted, suddenly much more alert. I blinked.

"My initial reaction exactly." I said with a shrug. Johnny's mouth was gaping slightly and he actually flicked his glasses down his nose a little to narrow his eyes studiously at me.

"Wha- he _kissed_ you?" He repeated. I nodded in reiteration, wanting to get on with my story but Johnny continued, "Where?"

"In the car. Oh, yeah, on the mouth." I said, beginning to realise my modest surprise was nothing to his absolute incredulity, "I wasn't really expecting it-"

"He pulled that shit without your _permission_?" Johnny said quickly. I raised an eyebrow delicately.

"I think asking might have been a little awkward," I said.

"Yeah but…" Johnny ran a hand through his hair; eyebrows raised, and then gave a short laugh, "Can't believe he finally made a proper move."

I blinked. "Whaddyou mean 'finally'?"

Gat just looked at me and gave me an affectionate grin, the same you might give a dog when you see it chasing its tail.

"C'mon Boss. Like you ain't ever seen him lookin at you. Not that the guitar and the necklace weren't a dead giveaway."

We fell quiet for a beat after that and I frowned, fingers quickly going to the pendants around my neck and again re-examining those memories I had of him. How could it have been so obvious to others but not to me? I groaned and dropped my head into my hands.

"I'm a fuckin idiot…" I murmured.

"Hey, not in a conventional sense. You can't help havin the emotional intelligence of a sea monkey." Johnny said 'kindly'. I scowled and quickly grabbed a throw pillow at my feet, chucking it hard at him without looking. He chuckled and caught it as it smacked him softly in the face. There was a lengthy pause before he spoke again.

"You mind it?"

"Huh?"

"Him mackin' on you. Did you mind it?" Johnny elaborated.

I tilted my head. "Did you just use the word 'macking'?" I asked with a grin. Johnny only narrowed his eyes, in all seriousness now.

"Boss, I remember what you told me about guys touchin' you like that." He said, frowning gently. I shifted.

"Don't you want to hear about what I did with a thermos full of nuclear waste?" I asked lightly but Johnny just gave me a flat look telling me he wasn't about to change the subject – apparently my emotional welfare was more interesting at that point. I sighed.

"I think I was too surprised at the time" I confessed, leaning forward on my knees. "But seeing as he's still alive I guess I didn't mind too much. Actually," I added, "I tried kissing him back. Just to… I dunno. See what would happen."

Gat was very still, watching me carefully. The pause in the air was tense, and he was the first to break it, reclining back into the sofa cushions.

"And what happened?' he asked quietly, mouth terse and his jaw tense. I was trying to read his expression just then but he'd pushed his glasses further over his eyes, hiding them from me behind the thin tint of shading. I shrugged.

"… I dosed Maero's tattoo inks with industrial waste." I said. Timeline was a little out, but he got the hint, I didn't want to elaborate further. He gave me a dark chuckle.

"Twisted. Definitely creative." He commented. I smiled dryly and nodded.

"I'm a special kind of fucked up," I bragged, pretending to flick some lint from my shoulder and we shared a small laugh.

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><p><strong>U mad Bro? *trollface<strong>


	23. Hablas Español?

**Thanks again fro the reviews guys! Now... FANSERVICE NO JUTSU!**

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><p>"… <em>Burn units flooded with casualties. And as the death toll rises, one can only wonder, what sort of sociopath could be responsible for this?<em>"

I clicked the radio off, silencing Valderama's accusing words and folded my arms against the bar at the hideout, nibbling my bottom lip with worry and working away at the wrapper of a packet of cough drops. Shaundi was looking at me sullenly, fingers shaking a little as she lit up a joint to calm herself. I closed my eyes, heaving up a deep cough and thumped a fist over my chest.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

When Shaundi's ex had told us about the Shivington dust labs the answer seemed simple enough; track them down, blow them up. I hadn't expected… I didn't even think about the danger involved. The projects and apartments in Shivington were all so old and closely built that the fires had just kept spreading. It was an utter disaster, and try as I might I couldn't shake the guilt.

"Shaundi, could you put that out?" I asked quietly. My lungs were already sore from smoke inhalation. Shaundi was quick to comply, stubbing out the joint and slipping it behind her ear, leaning forward over the counter.

"We couldn't have known it would happen," she offered in a strained voice. She was feeling just as guilty as I was.

"It's been over a day and it's still burning," I muttered incredulously, shuddering then heaving another heavy cough, my lungs on fire. Shaundi jumped up over the bar and began patting me hard on the back, the jolting helping a little.

"Boss, you really should see someone about that cough," he said gently, but I waved her off.

"I think the doctors and hospitals are a little busy at the moment," I said bitterly. Shivington… it couldn't have happened to a less deserving place. The area was already overpopulated with the displaced poor that had been forced from the Row… my stomach lurched when I remembered that. Shaundi leant back against the bar and was silent.

"Still, I could give Nikki a call-" Shaundi offered but I cut her off.

"I've gotta meet up with the Cartel in Sunsinger soon," I said, getting up off the stool and sticking a few drops between my lips, suckling hard and relaxing as the menthol chilled its way through my chest. Fuck the Cartel, it was the last thing I was in the mood for… but the meeting had to be made.

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><p>I studied my appearance in the mirror carefully; brushing out my hair and pulling it back up into a bun on the back of my head. The Cartel were trying to increase their foothold in Stilwater and I was going to stomp them out before they got too cocky; striking up a business deal with them would be the best and most lucrative way to go about this. But to do that I'd have to take some advice of an old friend-<p>

"_If you're going to be running a gang, you gotta be doing it in style. There are people you'll be dealing with who'll find a four hundred dollar pair of shoes much more impressive than a gun"_

I smiled softly as I remembered her. _Eesh… I could really use you right now_. She always knew what to say or how to handle any problems I was having. She was canny in a way I wasn't. I picked up the shoes from my dresser, running a thumb over the black snakeskin, smiling at the scarlet soles, then carefully slipping them on my feet, leaning against the dresser while I balanced myself out.

Personally I thought it was bullshit that I'd have to get so damn dressed up, but it would never change the fact that Eesh had been right. I could be as much of a badass as I wanted, no Cartel would be striking business deals to a girl in ripped black jeans and canvas shoes. I hunted in my drawer for my best shirt, my hands landing on black silk.

There was a knock behind me – I glanced over my shoulder as the door creaked open a little and saw Carlos poke his head around the corner.

"Boss? You feeling ok?" he said worriedly. I nodded, resisting the urge to cough.

"Shaundi sent you, huh?" I threw over my shoulder, turning back to face the mirror as I tugged the black silk shirt up over my shoulders and nimbly doing the buttons up. There was an unsteady silence as I waited for him to leave me alone; he didn't. I watched him in the mirror as he took a few tentative steps over the worn wooden floors towards me.

"… You couldn't have known it was going to happen," he said, his light accent clipping his words. I smoothed the fabric of my shirt, turning and leaning against my dresser and casting my eyes to the ground bitterly.

"That doesn't change the fact that it's _my fault_." I pressed. Dammit… ordinarily I wouldn't have cared. I was rarely ever worried about the impact our actions had on the people living in Stilwater but…

"Or the Samedi's fault for putting the labs there in the first place, or the city's fault for not planning the area properly or taking care of the buildings." he pressed quickly, taking more steps up to me and after a moment of hesitation, he gently gripped my shoulders, thumbs brushing over my skin, "And I know you tried to help them," he said. I had tensed when he'd touched me but now felt my muscles relaxing a little.

I swallowed carefully, feeling my lungs starting to itch and burn again, "… but I had to get out of there, the cops were-"

A cough erupted from my chest again and Carlos moved next to me, rubbing a hand over my back till I regained myself. I scowled at the floor and felt my jaw clench, trying to let his hand on my back relax me.

"I know," he assured, and then carefully pulled me into a hug with his palm still gently moving over my back. I didn't respond, but I didn't have the heart to push him away either; it felt strange, being so close to him, but it was a little comforting. He smelt nice; spicy, a little like coffee actually. Carlos pulled back out of the embrace eventually and took his hands off me entirely – I suppose being so non-responsive had elicited that.

"I just don't know why I'm getting so upset about it." I confessed with a hint of mirth and ran a hand through my hair. Carlos smiled broadly at that.

"Well, people have these things called consciences," he teased and I punched him weakly on the arm, eliciting a small chuckle, "…Boss, it's not a bad thing."

"Don't preach to me Carlos." I warned. I wasn't after a sermon.

"Sorry," he replied quietly, but kept talking after a pause, "… Just try not to blame yourself so much. I remember what the Saints did for the Row. You know, what _you_ did for them."

I frowned and looked up to him studiously. Unbelieveable.

"…How… why do you see me like that?" I asked him. Carlos smiled back at me, his chocolate eyes wide and affectionate.

"It's hard not to." He said, mouth stretching into a grin, "You're pretty amazing."

I dropped my head and sighed an awkward laugh, "_Jesus_," I mumbled, running hand through my hair. I heard Carlos give a small, awkward chuckle.

"You don't take compliments well, do you?" he said, the shyness and reserve beginning to disappear from his tone. I looked back up to him, starting to feel a little sassy.

"I could get used to it." I said, tilting my head. Huh, look at me, flirting. Haven't done that in a while… Carlos just smiled back having moved in a little closer, I felt myself tensing and became quite still. We hadn't said anything about what happened the other morning; I'd of course been putting it off mostly because I wasn't sure what he wanted from me (let alone what I'd want from _him_).

My attention was snapped back when Carlos plucked at the small pendant that hung from the thin chain around my neck and smiled, clearly glad to see I was wearing it. He let the miniature medallion fall back to my chest, his fingers resting there on my skin – enough to be intimate, not quite enough to be scandalous. I looked down at his coffee coloured hand, stark against my sun-starved skin and rather liked the look of it. My lips flushed when I looked back up to his dark eyes and we shared a dangerous smile – I knew then what I was after, and it was well known I had a habit of taking what I wanted.

I stepped in closer to him – it was apparently all the invitation he needed because he was quick to take my lips in his, the fingertips that had been at the base of my throat running slowly down the centre of my chest, snaking their way around my waist. I began to relax and was grateful, relieved that I wasn't nervous or revolted, letting the chaste kiss becoming a little more passionate – I felt Carlos smile into my mouth and he pulled back, pressing his kisses along my jaw line. I shivered as he nipped as a spot just below my ear.

"Dos' mi-yo." I murmured with a smile. I felt Carlos chuckle into the crook of my neck.

"Your pronunciation is terrible…" he said with a soft laugh, "_dos mio, nena_."

"_Dos mio._" I parroted carefully, my eyes closing as he pressed a feathered kiss under my jaw,"_Nena._"

I felt his lips part into a grin and he pulled back, "No," he corrected again, "_Nene_." He said, pointing to himself. Ah, a boy/girl thing.

"_Nene…_" I said, tilting my head and leaning back against the waist-high shelf, toying with the language and diving into the distraction from my previous guilt, "Got anything else for me?"

Carlos gave me a warm, thoughtful smile and brushed his fingertips over my forearm as he leant in to kiss me again. I relaxed into it, parting my lips to invite his tongue, and he slowly deepened the kiss, leaning his body against mine. "Hmn…" murmured into my mouth, and then pulled back, his nose touching mine. "_He estado pensando enti._"

I blinked, "Heh estaado…"

"_Pensando enti._"

"Pensando entee." I finished, "And what's that?"

He gently pushed a lock of hair from my face to look into my eyes. "_He estado pensando enti_, I've been thinking about you." He said. His romantic intensity at that point was overwhelming me.

"How sweet." I said dryly, raising an eyebrow, "You trying to give me diabetes?" I said. I saw his lips twitch and he leant back a little, observing me. The 'cute' expression melted away and his dark eyes just looked at me with a fierce intensity I'd never really seen before. His hands were either side of my hips, leaning on the shelf behind me. He stared right into my eyes as he growled the next words.

"… _Quiero cogerte._"

I blinked, and a small thrill ran up my spine, "Quiero cogerte…" I repeated and saw him try to restrain a grin. Interesting. "And that means?"

He shrugged, moving back in and nuzzling into my neck again, pressing a kiss here and there, hunting for a weak spot on me. "… _Te deseo_." He mumbled into my flesh. I closed my eyes and sighed, tilting my head to allow him better access.

"Te deseo." I repeated with a smile. He pressed his body against mine and my breath caught in my throat – my body was beginning to react as if waking from a long hibernation. He gave me a small nip on my neck, moving his lips up to my jaw, then to my mouth. I hungrily parted my lips at the kiss, gently biting his bottom lip and smiling at the small noise it drew from him.

I didn't mind this more aggressive Carlos…

He carefully broke the kiss, "… _Te amo,_" he instructed, his forehead leant against mine.

"Te amo… you gonna translate _any_ of that for me?" I said, my lips brushing his as I spoke. He smiled, arms moving around my waist. I rested my hands on his arms, my mind hazy and my blood burning.

"Maybe when you're pronouncing it properly…" He teased with a grin, the former cockiness having melted back into warm affection as he continued, "But then, I like the way you speak Spanish. How'd you fight the Carnales so long and not learn any?"

I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes with a sly smile. "I learnt all I needed to, _puta_." I growled, surprised at the low tones from my own throat.

"Whoaho, the mouth on _you_…" he said with a grin, a hand moving to pinch my chin affectionately. I let him, surprised at how comfortable I was at him handling me. His fingers moved to cup my face and he kissed me again, pressing his tongue past my lips hungrily and I leant forward to kiss him back. His thumb brushed over my cheek and a shiver raced up my spine again, as his other hand shifted the fabric of my top out of the way to run his fingertips over my sides. I moved my arms up around his neck slowly, fingers toying with the tight curls of glossy hair at the nape of his neck. I pressed my body fully against his and felt him moan into my mouth, barely able to break the kiss as he spoke.

"_Quieres venire a la cama conmigo_?" he breathed rapidly, again voicing something he didn't trust enough to say in English.

I didn't know the words but somehow I understood them; my hips were pressed hard against his and for the first time in a long while, pure desire was rippling through my body. I bit my lip and felt butterflies in my stomach when I replied, arms gripping him a little tighter.

"_Si_."

Carlos blinked and pulled back a little, looking at me questioningly, a little surprised.

"Please tell me you actually understood that," he said quickly. I could only grin and crush my mouth onto his, shivering. He responded almost viciously, his tongue hungrily against mine as his hands slid down my body, over my hips and his grip tightened – I made a small noise of surprise as he lifted me up onto the dresser and I tugged him forward, wrapping my legs around his hips.

My body was crying out for it, forcing the doubts in my mind aside. I hadn't actually been with anyone since that one awful night years ago, before I'd even joined the Saints. I hadn't _felt_ anything since then. But as Carlos tugged me closer and kissed me with so much passion, I felt renewed. Resurrected. Was I sure I wanted this? No. But I wanted to take the chance.

Till I remembered I was supposed to be meeting up with that god damn Columbian connection in fifteen minutes, the thought as annoying and inconvenient as an alarm clock waking you from a sweet dream. I pressed my palms flat against his chest and pushed him back gently, breaking the kiss and biting my lip, drawing a dramatic breath.

"…I have to meet up with someone in Sunsinger in about fif-"

Carlos groaned hopelessly and dropped his forehead onto my shoulder, causing me to chuckle.

"Fine, fine," he said, pulling back from me, and I slipped down from the dresser, cheeks still flushed, "I got some stuff to get done anyway," he added, running a hand through his hair again. I tilted my head.

"Right…" I said, unable to believe him totally "…Tell you what; when I get back, you can take me out to Hot Damn tonight." I said, feeling surprisingly sassy as I walked by him, stepping out of my room.

"I'll see you then," Carlos said with a smile, and I glanced over my shoulder to see him eyeing me. My sassy smile stretched into a grin.

"You're picturing it again, aren't you?" I teased, thinking back to that morning he'd walked in on me butt-naked and standing over a dead assassin. He only grinned back, and I continued down the hall, feeling my hips swaying a little more than usual.

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><p><strong>Bom chika wow...<strong>


	24. S: Stay On Drugs, Kids!

**Because the last chapter was so short I'm uploading this one right away. Hope you guys like it, cos I had a lot of fun writing it!**

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><p>A groan bubbled from inside my chest and I slowly opened my eyes, vision swimming before me. I was vaguely aware of my head hurting and my fingers moved to the bridge of my nose, squeezing the pressure points below my brow. I began noticing the colours popping in my vision; everything was green and humming like a car engine. I was in a very small, smoky room.<p>

"Wakey wakeeyy…" The voice echoed hauntingly through my head and for a brief moment I thought my aunt would tell me to get up and go to school. But I was far, far too relaxed right now. In fact, I felt downright wonderful. Oh shit.

I was high off my fucking tits.

There were four others sitting around me, two men far too close either side of me, their skin flush against my sides to stop me from moving. The two others sat in front of me, one far down the other end of the room that seemed to keep stretching and shortening the more I tried to focus. A skull danced before my eyes before floating away, drawing my attention to the other man, his huge, bubbling yellow eyes warping in front of me. His skin was a dark cocoa, and the black snakes he had for hair were held back under a rainbow dread-rag. The skull sat atop a staff he waved with one hand.

"Where am I?" I groaned. The voice that answered me was deep and rich; I wanted to drink that voice, like cream or chocolate.

"You are sitting with your betters, my friend." It warped down to me from the man far down the other end of the room, begging to be tasted. I bit my lip, trying to decipher the words as it continued. "I wanted to see the face of young woman who has caused me so much trouble. So far I find the experience… underwhelming."

Delicious thought he voice was I knew when I was being insulted. I scowled at the man at the other end of the room – _limo_, I reminded myself. I was in a limo… I tried to think of what had happened; I was walking somewhere… near the Arena. I was going to meet up with the Columbian? No, no I was coming _back_ from meeting the Cartel and… A big green and black limo had pulled up and two Samedi had gotten out… I think I remember seeing a baseball bat flying at me.

Now I was here.

"Who the fuck are you?" I growled to the man; he was dark skinned and his head was cleanly shaven, he looked very clean and smooth, dressed neatly in a white suit and a thick cigar sat between his fingers. The smoke of the cigar crept over to me, twisting and jumping about. The man spoke;

"I am the man whose property you stole and destroyed,"

Oh, right, that _one guy_ whose shit I'd fucked up. "Oops!" I said with a giggle, nudging the guy next to me and chuckling further. Haha, this was all turning out to be pretty damn funny actually…

"You needn't dwell on your mistakes." He continued, his mouth and eyes becoming blobular. "You will not live to learn from them."

"That so?" I said with a lazy grin, stretching out comfortably on the seat. Nice car, actually. I should get one. Paint it purple. The other man with the rainbow cap turned his yellow eyes to me.

"I'm afraid it is." He said. His voice wasn't delicious like the other Haitian; his was thin and whispered like a hissing snake.

"Who the fuck're you?" I grumbled at him. His eyes bulged hugely and his mouth spread across his cheeks like a bullfrog's when he spoke.

"They call me, Mr Sunshine." He said. I blinked, the irony not lost on me at all. The irony being that this freak had a stupid fucking name. That was irony, right?

"Pfft. Well. Listen here, _sunshine_." I said, leaning forward and swaying like I was heavily drunk, watching his liquid face coagulate in front of me. "I don't care, how _fucked _up, _your_ face is," I waved my hands in front of my own face, slowly flopping back onto the seat and grinning. Yeah. I'm the _Boss_. The _Baws_… "I ain't scared of you, _or_ that other asshole."

"Pity." Sun-shiny man replied.

The deep voice reverberated towards me as the suited man spoke again, "Gentlemen, I'm through meeting with my adversary. If you please, dispose of this trash."

"Of course General." The two men sitting beside me said in unison. I snorted a laugh. General? Really?

"You're a _general_?" I said, swaying and finding the notion hilarious. I whacked the guy to my right playfully on the arm to get his attention, "You hear that? This guy thinks he's a – SHIT!"

Gun! Gun in my face!

I grabbed his wrist and slammed it into the window, the bullet discharging and cracking the tinted glass. I grappled with him, hitting him hard and twisting the gun in his hand – as we grappled I saw the other guy draw his gun and I swept back hard as he extended his arm, trapping the pistol behind my back – it discharged, etching a burn across my back and slamming into the body of the guy next to me who grunted and flopped forward. I twisted the gun from the soon-to-be-dead man's grip, turning it and sticking it under the chin of the man whose arm I'd trapped.

I fired. Blood and brain splattered through the limo. I heard the click of another gun readying to fire and swung my aim around to Sunshine, rapidly squeezing the trigger and shooting him several times in the chest. I thought I'd killed him, but the last thing I can remember of him was how he looked down to his chest, looking only a little annoyed. I reached for the limo door, flinging it open and grabbing the body next to me, making a jump into the traffic, sliding along the asphalt on the body, rattling as skin, blood and bone ground away till we came to a stop and I rolled off him. So much bloody noise was rattling me, horns and screams and screeching, the crushing of metal and shattering of glass.

I stood shakily and the world began to invert – I leant over to try and steady myself, placing a hand on the road '_Okay ground, just stay there; I'll work around you…_' As I looked down I noticed my feet were bare and gasped, realising my shoes had walked away.

Around me cars were piled up in a huge crash in front of me, complete anarchy on the road.

"…This is a bad time to be fucked up…" I murmured to myself.

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><p>Shaundi gritted her teeth and unloaded round after round on the Samedi invaders, ducking back down behind the bar to reload. They'd come out of nowhere to attack the hideout, and of course she'd gotten on the phone to the Boss as soon as she could have. The response was not what she'd hoped for.<p>

"_Shaundi you're like, the coolest Saint ever…_" The Boss had sighed happily, and not actually giving any assurance that she would be on her way to help.

She looked either side of her to the few Saints that were left; the one to her left was a huge guy, so much so Shaundi felt like and absolute pixie next to him. He was known to most only as Mongrel, one of the real muscles of the gang. His dusty blonde hair stuck down over his steely eyes; the ones with the freaky irises that would eerily change colour with his emotions. He was using his teeth to tie off a bandana on his arm where he had been sliced by a Samedi machete, then blindly fired a few rounds over the top of the bar. The little Saint Dice was crouched next to him, eyes burning with bloodlust and she fired over the bar, cussing under her breath.

The Samedi were poorly armed, but were overwhelming them with sheer numbers – Shaundi poked her head over the bar again, releasing a rain of bullets on the Sons – her attention caught by some shouting up the stairs.

And the Boss came crashing in, an SMG in one hand and a bloodied machete in the other. Shaundi gaped – there was blood running down the Boss' face from what must have been a bad gash to the head, and her arms were spotted with blood. This didn't worry her though – she charged in fearlessly, eyes distant as she swung the machete, cleaving open throats, and shooting at anything green, including a potted plant in the corner. A son turned and fired once at her, the bullet carving a deep wound across her shoulder, knocking her forward. Dopily she looked over at the wound.

"Whu wha'sat for?" she grumbled, unloading the last of her bullets on the Son, his body jerking an ugly dance of death with every impact. Her fearlessness rallied the last few Saints, Mongrel jumping over the bar and Dice scrambling after him, unhooking the pink crowbar from her belt and charging the Samedi. Mongrel was shooting at any that weren't close enough to break with his bare hands and Dice swung the sharp curl of her crowbar into the face of an assailant. For all the damage the Saints took they barely felt it; soon the hideout was cleared, but the brief moment of silence was interrupted by the sound of cars echoing down to them from the parking lot above. Shaundi jogged up the stairs to where the Boss was still edging around nervously. As she took a step back she trod in a pool of blood, her bare feet sliding and she quickly overbalanced, fell on her ass, then looked up to Shaundi dopily.

"We should get more guns..." She said swaying slightly and her eyes suddenly brightening, pupils dilated as she unsteadily got to her feet.

"Oh shit…" Shaundi groaned, whipping out her phone and punching speed dial as she watched the boss disappear into her room.

"Gat!" she said quickly down the phone, "Where are you?"

"_Getting a beer with Peirce and Carlo-"_

"Get back to the hideout! The Samedi are swarming us, half the crew is down and all I have for backup is _Charlie fucking Sheen_!"

She whirled around as four more Samedi clattered down the stairs, quickly firing on them and ducking behind the broken angel statue.

"_On our way - wait whaddyou mean Charlie She-"_

But Shaundi had dropped her phone taking careful aim and plucking the Samedi off. She saw the Boss come charging out of her room again, twirling a machete around and slamming the blade into the face of a Samedi, yanking it out as he fell and bringing it down a second time into his throat, severing his head with a sickening crunch. She looked over her shoulder at Shaundi, a fresh spray of blood coating her skin.

"You have to destroy the head," she said, deathly serious, pointing the bloodied machete at Shaundi, "They can't come back that way."

Shaundi just gaped.

The last two Saints had jogged up the stairs, jaws dropped at the sight of their Leader. She was still dressed in her best black short shorts and fitted black silk shirt, though the buttons had mostly ripped by now and it was barely covering her, revealing a flash of the purple bra beneath. With the buckled knee high biker boots she'd yanked on looked like a twisted, gothic Lara Croft; her wild black hair was haphazardly tied back from her face, which had more and more blood streaming down over her right eye and running with the black inky makeup that had coated her lids and lashes. Across her cheek there was a red mark, almost like a rash. The splatter of blood up her arms glittered revealing itself to be shattered glass embedded in her skin. But she seemed totally oblivious to all this, and had managed to arm herself to the teeth with whatever the hell she'd had hiding away in her room; a shotgun in one hand, machete in the other, a Krukov dropped at her feet, and _belts_ of bullets.

"Uh, Boss, you feeling ok?" Mongrel piped up. She smiled broadly at him and nodded.

"Get your guns you sexy fuckers!" she declared, pointing the machete at him and Dice, the blade dangerously close to Mongrel's nose, "There's more on the way," picking up the Krukov and slinging it over her shoulder, she stumbled and bumped into a wall, sliding over another pool of blood then ran up through the basements, Shaundi groaning and racing into the Boss' room to arm herself.

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><p>Gat drove like a maniac through the streets speeding back to the red light district, Pierce and Carlos leaning out of the windows unleashing all their firepower over the vibrant green Samedi cars that were swarming the area. He yanked the hand break to drift the car around into the parking lot, Pierce and Carlos holding on to the upholstery to stop from being thrown about.<p>

"Shit," Gat said, seeing the Attroizone that had crumpled into a telephone pole by the mission house, front crushed and windshield caved in. There was no one inside, but there _was_ blood, the driver's side door thrown open. The men flung car doors open and crouched behind them for cover as they started firing on the Samedi who were attempting to enter the mission house, carefully plucking them off one by one before charging ahead – as they did, the mission doors burst open, and a mad, bloodied Boss came flying out, attempting to jump onto the hood of a Samedi car, slipping and smacking herself hard onto the concrete.

"The _fuck?_" Johnny gaped with a surprised laugh. He started jogging towards her, Carlos already at a sprint and out stripping him, making him scowl and quicken his pace. Peirce lagged behind having enough sense to scan the area as more Samedi cars came tearing through Shivington towards the hideout.

Carlos grabbed the Boss under the arms and pulled her up – she threw an arm over his shoulder and smiled dopily.

"Oh, Carlos," she said with affectionate surprise, ruffling a hand over his purple scull cap and pressing a kiss onto his cheek, smudging her blood over his face, "Didn't know you were here nene."

Carlos only blinked, looking with some confusion and a lot of delight to Gat, who was far more incredulous, less-so delighted, and then to Shaundi who was cocking a rifle while scowling and shaking her head as she lead the last Saints from the hideout. They were on their phones for backup, dispersing quickly to the entrance points of the lot.

"I have no idea what the hell she's on," She said, sighing at the Boss, who cocked her shotgun, trying for a second time to climb up onto the hood of the Samedi car, succeeding this time and gazing around the lot doing her best to be alert and sober. The boss suddenly yelled and fired her shotgun as she saw a vibrant green car come screaming towards them, firing again and obliterating the windshield, dropping her gun thoughtlessly and swinging the rifle around from her back, gritting her teeth and opening on the invaders.

Peirce shouted as more came from the West side, the Saints turning and firing in all directions as more Samedi closed in on them, raining bullets on the small group. Mongrel and a few of his backup were fast into the fray, giving cover fire and killing anything that got too close to the lieutenants. The Boss clambered from the hood to stand on the roof of the car, wild with bloodlust and rattling bullets into the lime cars around them as bullets whistled dangerously close to her – Gat finally swore, jumping up onto the hood and wrapping an arm around the Boss' waist, throwing her over his shoulder.

"_Christ_ Boss you _wanna_ get shot up?" he growled, turning his shotgun on a Son, as the buxom young woman over his shoulder continued flailing and firing.

"Yes!" she replied with gusto. Gat sat her down protectively behind cover, grabbing her chin and forcing her huge pupils to his face.

"Focus." He said bluntly. The boss frowned and blinked, trying to get her head into gear, and then nodded sharply.

"I'm good Gat," she said, her words slurring a little. Johnny only nodded in agreement, tentatively letting her go. She stood and began trying to take aim rather than just firing blindly, her head swimming as more and more Samedi hit the pavement.

"My God!" she bleated, "They bleed _green_!"

Johnny couldn't help but laugh, "Do they, now?" he teased, throwing his friend a look and seeing Carlos hovering around her protectively, firing at the approaching Sons with gritted teeth.

The Boss shook her head, trying to think straight.

"Guys… I got an idea…" she said, ducking back towards the hideout before he could respond. Gat and Carlos were protectively either side of her till she was safely in, taking out anyone who might attack a blind spot – Pierce and Shaundi battled back to back.

"Christ, I don't know if we can hold them off forever," Shaundi said to Pierce. He turned and swore, wrapping an arm around her waist and dove them both behind a concrete road block as he saw a Molotov cocktail sailing their way, shattering and exploding fire around them. Shaundi yelped in surprise, scrambling to her knees and patting out a flame on Peirce's shoulder.

"Thanks," they said in unison. Shaundi peered around through the gunfire, quickly reloading her gun without looking.

"Where's the Boss?" she said hurriedly. Peirce looked around, before tapping her shoulder and pointing to the roof of the mission, where the Boss had burst through the doors of the staircase.

With an _RPG launcher_ over her shoulder and lugging a case of shells in her other hand. She dropped them down, stumbling a little as she tried to take aim at a green car full of Samedi, her tongue between her teeth like a three year old trying to colour between the lines.

"… I think we should-"

"-get inside, right," Peirce said, finishing Shaundi's sentence. They both ducked and ran for cover, indicating quickly to Gat and Carlos just as the Boss fired. The grenade launched at the car, detonating on impact and shattering the parking lot with a huge explosion sending the shockwave, fire, debris and chunks of charred human flesh slamming into cars and people. Some of the Samedi panicked and fled, their cars screaming out of the parking lot, scraping against a few purple cars full of Saints who'd arrived for backup.

The lieutenants crept quickly from the slight cover of the mission, opening fire on the Samedi that had wanted to stay. Gat felt his gaze tugged directly up and tried not to laugh as the Boss waved back down at him, loading another rocket into the launcher.

"Heads up, she's going again." He warned the crew, who crouched in unity. Above them the Boss turned, trying to take aim and began laughing manically at something.

"FUS ROH DAH!" she bellowed, the rocket erupting and seeking out its target, recoil barley affecting her. There was another huge, deafening explosion, all but clearing the parking lot as the shell detonated. Shaundi was trying to wrap her head around the absurdity of the situation, while Carlos just turned to Pierce, muttering "What did she say?"

Johnny had enough sense to make a move for the stairs and get up there before the Boss managed to blow herself up. He burst onto the roof, seeing her clumsily trying to reload the RPG, sitting a little too close to the edge of the building for his liking, one of her legs slung casually over the edge.

"Boss!" he said quickly moving to her, trying to get his hands on the launcher. She tried to snatch it away.  
>"<em>No<em> Gat, this is _my_ rocket launcher." She chided, unsteadily getting to her feet.

"Where did you even _get_ that?" Johnny began to say incredulously, but quickly swore when she began to tip forward and he quickly grabbed her by the waistband of her shorts as she waivered over the precipice of the roof, yanking her back and catching her. She blinked, mind swimming.

"Thanks," she said quietly, arms snuggling around the rocket launcher and she leant her head against his shoulder. He groaned with exasperation.

"Boss, _what are you on_?' he stressed, giving her a shake. She opened her eyes.

"I dunno." She murmured. "Th' General put me in his limo and I was all… drugs n'stuff…" she murmured. Johnny frowned when he realised she was trying to say she'd been drugged; he had no idea what was in her system right now, but it seemed to be a combination of GHB and amphetamines, or possibly an overdose of Loa Dust… she was definitely confused and rapidly fluctuating. Suddenly the Boss' eyes blinked open and were staring at him with terrifying coldness.

"... I lost my Shoes, Johnny," she said quietly, her expressions too close to Hannibal Lector's for his liking. She turned her RPG out again to see one last, straggling Samedi car packed full of soldiers and releasing a gutsy war cry as she fired at them, Gat only just ducking out of the way to avoid the backlash. The Samedi car exploded, sending the green-clad soldiers within flying to the sides, their fiery corpses littering the ground. After a beat of silence one or two more Saints arrived as backup, a little late to the party.

She dropped the empty weapon which clattered loudly on the roof top, swaying and taking a stumbled step towards Gat, who reached out to steady her.

"I'm not the one doing it!" she was suddenly trying to assure him, grabbing a handful of his shirt, though her gaze was still fixed on the huge piles of twisted, burning metal below, "It's the _other_ one, they keep mashing the left trigger!"

Gat patted her hair uncertainly, wondering if there were any hallucinogens that had been thrown into the drug cocktail for good measure, "Well whoever it is, they did a good job of it." He said with a dark chuckle. The Boss nodded, her lips twisting thoughtfully as she looked to the smouldering mess in the car park and put a hand on her hip.

"Yeah… should probably talk to the council about that," she said pensively, then turned a concerned look to Gat as he snorted and shoulders shook as he held back his laughter, "Oh no don't cry Johnny, we'll get it cleaned up!" she promised, rubbing his arm reassuringly. Gat's sinister laughter burst forward then and he shook his head.

"Okay Boss, we're gonna get you inside," he said with a grin. The Boss considered it a moment before linking her arm through his and nodding, letting herself be lead back downstairs.

* * *

><p>An annoyed growl rumbled up from my chest and through my nose.<p>

"Careful Johnny-"

"Shut up Carlos, I know what I'm doing."

I scowled a little glancing between them; Johnny was in front of me, fingers carefully working away at the huge wound on my head now that he was done with the one on my shoulder – Carlos leant against the doorframe where Gat had banished him from the small ensuite. I winced as he worked and noticed Carlos actually give Johnny a dark look behind his back.

"Sit still and it ain't gonna hurt as much," Johnny purred lowly, gently cleaning blood from my face. My mind was still foggy, and colours were popping in and out of my vision but I felt myself coming down from the high, leaving my body exhausted. I heard a small sigh escape me and Johnny carefully tilted my head and poured a little water through my hairline, getting a hand towel and squeezing the blood out of my locks, pushing them back from my face. He briefly inspected my scalp for any more injuries before turning back to the main one, a deep impact gash along my hairline. I can vaguely remember the jolting impact of an airbag slamming me in the face, pushing me to the side and whacking my head against the doorframe of the car.

I closed my eyes and let Johnny work; he was no doctor, none of us were, but we'd all done our fair share of stitching and dressing wounds. I heard the slight snipping of scissors as he clipped away my hair, fingers brushing over the cut. There was a rummaging as he went through the first aid kit.

"This'll sting," he forewarned, and my jaw clenched in anticipation as he wiped the antiseptic over the slash – it burned painfully but compared to what I've put up with before it really wasn't anything to loose my shit over. I opened my eyes and stared at the bathroom tiles, some of them slowly popping up and down from where they should have been. I looked away from them to look at my hands, and then frowned. My skin was glittering, sparkling. I drew a sharp breath, a very real concern rattling my body as I lifted my hands to inspect my forearms. Oh no...

"Oh – um, guys? _Guys?_" I said, feeling my eyes go wide. Gat looked over to me sharply, holding a needle in the flame of his lighter.

"Boss? Oh, hold on," I heard him drop the tools and moved to take my hand but Carlos had already stepped up, gently extending my arm to inspect it. Johnny was silent next to him.

"It's ok," Carlos assured me, "it's only glass, we can get it out no problem." Then as if to make a point, he gently pulled one of the glittering shards from my skin. I could have fainted with relief.

"Oh _thank God!_" I breathed, feeling my body relax. Carlos just smiled and kept holding my hand. Beside me Johnny chuckled.

"Anxious were you?" I heard him saying with a grin, picking up the needle again and holding it in the flame before running a fine nylon thread through it. I nodded.

"Thought I was one of those vampires. Not the cool Camarilla ones, the shitty glittery ones."

Both men bowed their heads to chuckle heartily at my expense and I felt Carlos' thumb brushing over my knuckles. I couldn't see what was so funny; I had been genuinely concerned there.

"Aiight Boss," Johnny said, his voice smiling. "Sit still, I'm gonna start stitching now. Carlos, move."

Carlos wasn't happy about it and hesitated before pulling away – no one in the gang would question Gat. But I frowned as I closed my eyes, and gripped Carlos' hand tighter, overriding anything Johnny had said.

"I think the Boss wants me to stay here." I heard him say, sounding just the tiniest bit arrogant. Gat only grunted back.

I leant back against the mirror, remaining still while he worked. I was equally aware of Carlos' steady hand, remembering our 'conversation' earlier that day and frowned.

"Sorry we couldn't go to Hot Damn tonight," I mumbled, my hand involuntarily squeezing Carlos' fingers. Admittedly it wasn't just the night out I was bummed about missing because I was an addled mess of drugs, fatigue and possibly a severe concussion, it was the consequential night _in_…

"Didn't know we were goin," Johnny said, blasé as he concentrated on the stitches. I thought I heard Carlos clear his throat, and his thumb brushed harder over my knuckles. Huh. Weird. My eyes flickered open.

"Wha? No no, Carlos was takin' me." I said. For some reason Johnny's fingers paused, and this was followed by an equally inexplicable awkward silence. Eh. Too high to care.

"Huh. Cool." Johnny replied flatly and kept working away. I smiled contentedly and nodded, letting my eyes slip closed again, fatigue and the heavy come-down making my bones feel like lead.

Weird pictures and colours danced behind my closed lids, and my body began to relax further as I began to slip into sleep, the dark eternity caressing my addled mind. Somewhere I heard a voice echo, purring and rumbling like a cat curled on my chest, as sharp little things began to prickle the skin on my arms. Cool fluid was running down them like time trickling down and circling the drain. Dry fabric was being bound around my forearms and wrists, gently secured into place. A hand tapped me on the face, and another was on my shoulder, shaking gently to rouse me; a grumble purred up from my belly and my eyes closed tighter – I was very comfortable where I was, thank you.

Then there was pressure under my knees and around my shoulders; I fluttered my eyes open and felt a small lurch as I was lifted and my body curled up comfortably, pressed securely into a warm torso. Another pair of hands went to my shoulder but I was pulled away.

"It's fine, I've got her," I heard Carlos say, his voice vibrating through his chest. My eyes slipped closed again at the gentle rocking of him carrying me, and then lowered me down onto the softness of my bed, the mattress bending with the weight of him sitting on the edge next to me. I curled over comfortably feeling sleep beginning to devour the last of my consciousness. I was vaguely aware of low voices.

"So... you two are actually a thing now, huh?" Gat said lowly from a distance. The weight next to me shifted.

"Well… I'm not sure exactly… but yeah. Yeah I guess so." I heard Carlos reply. A long silence stretched for some time before the next words were said.

"… You break her heart and I'll break your neck."

I tried to open my eyes but it was like someone had wiped molasses over them. I heard retreating footsteps then, and after a beat heard Carlos stand, walking around to the other side of the bed and cautiously crawling next to me, lying down and resting a hand on my waist.

"You mind if I stay?" he asked quietly through the darkness. I felt too tired to respond, instead flopping my arm over and resting my hand over his, plummeting to sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>I broke the fourth wall. The world will crumble in its wake.<strong>


	25. B: Mercy

There was a fleeting, wonderful moment when I woke up, where I honestly believed the whole world was as it should be. I was just at home with a head cold, and I could have some noodle soup and Nyquil and go back to sleep. But my dry, tired eyes discovered the figure beside me and I realised with pain it wasn't who I thought it was; Johnny was dozing with his glasses off, revealing his eyes as they snapped open when I stirred. His expression was grave when he looked to me.

"How you feeling?"

I swallowed carefully, burying my body back under the quilt. "M'throat hurts." I murmured, voice warped by a blocked nose. I felt the back of Johnny's hand against my forehead for a brief moment.

"That'll happen when you pull stupid shit like that," he said quietly with affectionate sadness. I squeezed my eyes shut and rolled onto my back. There was a weight on my chest, something that was twisting painfully in a place where my heart should have been. Johnny released a small breath beside me.

"… Can you tell me what happened?" I heard him continue quietly. My throat spasmed and my mind slipped back, the awful reality closing in on me…

* * *

><p>I hugged my bandaged arms around me, the bitter snap announcing an early winter as an icy breeze blew dead leaves and rubbish down the street, the cold seeming to be retaliation for the heat wave of the summer. I rocked back on my heels and began pacing impatiently, rubbing my arms – it had been sunny that morning, I hadn't been expecting this. Though I had a long sleeve shirt on I hadn't bothered with a jacket, and the wind was starting to blow right through me.<p>

I blew a warm breath into my hands and rubbed them together, narrowing my eyes down the street, looking for any sign of Carlos. The last I'd remembered of his being there was him pressing a kiss to my temple, a perfect bloody gentleman; he hadn't been there when I woke up though in his defence I'd slept off the come down till two in the afternoon. It was now five and I was on my way back from picking up 'breakfast' when I'd gotten his call. He'd said he'd come to pick me up and wait where I was; apparently he'd found a contact who could tell us about the Brotherhood's shipment and wanted to take me to see him; he'd sounded excited, and I was anxious to meet this guy.

A wizened old man was shuffling by me, hands wrapping his long trench coat tightly around him. He paused when he saw me looking at him, then suddenly whipped his jacket open and I got an eye full of his emaciated, liver-spotted, naked old body. I flinched away and shut my eyes, but unfortunately I knew I could never un-see that. As I turned I heard a giggle and looked a little way down the alley, seeing a hooker getting to her knees in front of a client. The 'blessed' downsides of living in this neighbourhood – though you could do pretty much whatever you wanted, it meant everyone else could too.

Finally my phone chimed loudly and I yanked it swiftly from my pocket, mashing the call button without even looking.

"Carlos, where the fuck are you?" I snapped impatiently down the line.

"_I think your people skills need some work sweetie."_

I blinked as I tired to place the vaguely familiar voice. "Jessica… how'd you like Maero's new tattoo?" I said with a dark smile.

"_Actually, I think it's pretty sexy. Tough, rugged…"_

"Radioactive?" I interrupted.

"_That's cute."_ She said snidely.

"I try. Now what the fuck do you want?" I growled, my banter threshold already reached.

"_Well, I just wanted to let you know since you were nice enough to give my man a makeover, I figured I should do the same."_ She cooed. The hairs on the back of my neck began to stand up as she continued,_ "Don't worry. By the time we're through with him, Carlos will look just as handsome as Maero-"_

"-Listen you little bitch-" I snapped quickly but she cut me off,

"_-Course we don't have the same materials you did, but you know, I figure we can make do."_

Black, tar-like fury was consuming me as I pictured her face, and my heart hammered when I thought of Carlos, and the words ground out of my mouth "When I find you-"

"_I'm sure you'll do something scary."_ She said dismissively – somewhere behind her, I could hear voices, someone shouting something angrily, swapping between English and Spanish – my breath caught in my throat, _Carlos_; he was still alive, I still had time… I snarled when I realised Jessica was still speaking to me,_ "Do me a favour. When you're scraping up your boy's face just remember, Maero gave you an opportunity to be his partner."_

The line went dead and I was frozen for a moment, mind forcibly pragmatic as I deciphered her words and felt sick when I worked out what she'd meant. They had Carlos somewhere, and his time was running out.

I ran to the road, spying the first car I saw and whipping out my gun, standing in front of it, firing and screaming furiously at it to stop.

The driver didn't even wait for me to pull him out – he just leapt from the car and ran. I clambered in and barely slammed the door shut as I tore through the streets, hunting down the one person I could think of who'd know where Carlos was.

* * *

><p>"WHERE IS HE?" I roared, picking up a tyre iron and smashing it down onto Donnie's back as he curled up in the corner of the garage. He kicked out at me, trying to scramble away as I stumbled back.<p>

"I don't know-" he squealed, but I just reached down and grabbed him by the back of his jumpsuit, dragging him kicking and flailing to the work bench.

"_BULLSHIT!_" I shouted, dragging him up and slamming his head down onto the workbench, pinning him there.

"I'm not telling you shit Saint!" he spat, cheeks crushed against the wood, trying for once in his pathetic life to show he had some balls. I didn't have the time for this right now. I reached out, my fingers wrapping around a welding gun and instantly clicking the roaring blue flame into existence, bringing it in my burning fury to his face. Donnie froze, and then suddenly started screaming and begging me as I brought the flame closer and closer – the hairs on his eyebrows began to smoke and shrivel with the heat and the skin around it was going red.

"Where?" I snarled into his ear, "Or you loose your _fucking eyes_ you little _bitch_."

"The truck yard docks!" he cried, breaking in an instant as his skin began to warp, "They said they were taking him to the docks, please, _please just let me go!_"

I obliged, smacking his head hard into the bench, hearing a crack and a spatter of blood over the wood. He slumped to the ground, either dead or unconscious, I didn't care which. I snagged the keys from his pocket and made a beeline for his car – I needed something faster than the Aqua I'd boosted. As I leapt into the car – another souped-up Voxel – rain started splattering down from the heavens, making the roads slick. I tore away through the streets, swerving through the cars when I could, and if I couldn't, I was up on the sidewalk, stupid fucking sheep called people leaping out of my way.

"Hold on Carlos," I chanted softly through gritted teeth, eyes peeled as the industrial area began sprouting around me, people and cars thinning to nearly nothing. I raced down the road, my breathing hard and fast and heard from my left a loud rumbling, and as I approached an intersection, a huge Brotherhood truck screamed across my vision, followed by a small flash of purple being dragged along behind it. I nearly screamed when the realisation hit me –

I yanked hard on the handbrake to swerve the car around – it lurched on the slick wet road and threatened to roll – I released the brake and slammed my foot on the gas, chasing down the truck, hands shaking violently.

It was a horrible, foreign feeling that was ripping icily through my body, and I realised that for the first time in years, I was truly afraid. No, I was _terrified_; I was out of my wits with sheer dread. Ahead I saw the truck follow the road around a corner, Carlos' helpless form being torn along behind it – I had to stop it, and as I saw a side street I irrationally figured out how. I yanked the handbrake, whipped the car around again, slamming the gears and charging through the alley, fingers on my seatbelt and yanking it off my hips. The car scraped along the buildings as I rocketed out onto the street, slamming the break and sliding the car around again, seeing the truck swerve around the corner and come charging towards me.

My foot hit the gas and I drew my gun.

I started shooting blindly through the windshield, eyes narrowed through the rain and broken glasses, spying the face of the Brotherhood asshole driving the truck and fired several shots once he was close enough. The truck was barley meters from my car when I finally shot him, blood flying out the back of his head and his body slumping forward onto the steering wheel, swerving it. I twisted the steering wheel sharply and kicked the door open, throwing myself from the Voxel and feeling my stitches sharply ripping on my shoulder as I hit the road rolling. The Voxel jerked itself into the path of the truck becoming a 1.5 tonne roadblock.

I rolled down the rain-soaked road, eventually coming to a stop and ripping my eyes up to the truck as it pushed the Voxel along, crushing it into a brick wall far down the road and crashing to a stop, the small figure that was dragged behind it rolling for a beat before falling still.

The rain ran down my face and I breathed hard, I pushed myself up – if I was hurt, I didn't know it.

My feet flew me towards the truck, shoes slipping over the slick asphalt as the icy rain began to pour harder. I blinked through the dim storm light, Carlos' body becoming clearer – for a moment I thought he was already dead and my feet came to a sudden stop along with my heart. I heard a soft groan and his body twitched and I ran to him again, skidding down to my knees by his side. The sight of him began burning into my mind – he was face down, the clothes half torn from his body, his cocoa skin shredded. I bit my lip and carefully put my hands on him.

He trembled, a small whimper echoing from somewhere in his chest. One of his arms hung limply from the socket. My breathing was shallow – I gritted my teeth, lifting his body as gently as I could and turned him over – an agonised cry choked from his lips and for a moment he was almost unconscious as I rolled him onto his back.

I had to look away.

It was his soft, shuddering breaths and pained noises that made me look back at him, refusing to forsake him. I couldn't breathe; one half of his face was grated away, the bone on his chin, jaw, cheeks, brow, all exposed. One of his beautiful brown eyes was gone, a bloodied mess where it used to be. There was a crack in his head, a flap of skin and hair folded back exposing the broken skull beneath, blood pouring from it, skin and muscle down his torso shredded away. There were chunks of flesh missing; I could only imagine what he'd hit that had hacked him to pieces like that. He shifted his arms, but not his legs. I couldn't breathe, looking at him. He was utterly broken. _Carlos…_

My mind swam and I thought I was going to faint, my mind flailing foolishly as I tried to think.

Get him to a hospital.

I clumsily moved to my feet and moving to pick him up; he cried out in pain and I carefully lowered him again, looking to the thick chain that linked him to the truck. _Stupid girl_! I thought angrily at myself. I ran to the bumper of the truck, kicking at it with all my might but the thick, heavy chain was padlocked on there. I dropped to the ground, closing my eyes. A cruel voice whispered in my mind the awful truth that I wouldn't be able to free him in time, and I tried desperately to crush the thought.

…There was no sound but the rain, and Carlos whispering agony. His broken body echoed past the back of my eyes and I slowly opened them, lifting my head to look to him. I pushed myself to my feet and walked back to Carlos, dropping to one knee beside him.

He looked back up to me with his one dark brown eye – his face was contorted with agony, a pain that would haunt me till my dying day. He couldn't speak, he couldn't scream; only tiny, shuddering whimpers of suffering escaped his tortured body. Shakily, his hand raised and I quickly took it, his fingers curling weakly around my palm. He released a quick breath and his lips – the smudges of flesh that were once his lips – moved as if to say something to me – his gaze dropped to the pistol that was tucked away in the holster on my thigh. My blood ran cold as he looked back up to me –

_No_, the irrational part of my mind started screaming, _not now, please_, and I felt my eyes widen, I wanted to shake my head, _no_. I looked to his mutilated body again – he was trembling, bleeding out slowly over the asphalt; it was as if the rain was slowly washing him away. But that other voice whispered through the screaming in my mind… it moved my hand to wrap my icy fingers around the gun, carefully pulling it out of the holster, never once able to break eye contact with Carlos.

He lifted his head, trembling, and nodded.

_Mercy…_

My hand moved on its own.

It placed the muzzle of the gun to his forehead.

My frozen finger curled around the trigger. Carlos' pleading look searched my eyes and was beginning to grow fearful; I couldn't string this out any longer.

I felt my index finger spasm and the shot rang out through the empty streets of Stilwater, echoing, endlessly through the silent city. I felt his grip flex on my hand, and go limp as the last light of life left his eye, and he was staring into oblivion. The gun clattered from my hand and my body slouched over.

From the second that shot went out, something in my heart was extinguished. I hadn't even known it had been growing there; a warmth, a hope, a glimmer of something pure that was beyond everything I thought I was. It vanished with Carlos, snuffed out in its infancy.

My insides had gone numb. I knelt there, next to his motionless corpse, the empty _thing_ that had once been my friend. The rain continued to thunder down in the now darkness – it burned my skin with its cold and turned my breath to frost before me. It washed the blood away from Carlos, running down the street and cleaning his disfigured body.

I reached my cold fingers out to touch his face. I let my imagination fill him in; rebuild him in my mind as he lay there, and slowly I slumped forward, shifting and resting my torso over him, closing my eyes, feeling his fading warmth and letting my senses fool me, if only for a while. Under the scent of tar and blood and rain, was that hot, spicy, coffee scent that I'd come to recognise as his. My eyes opened slowly, looking down at the gun that lay on the road next to us. I carefully drew my foot up and kicked it away. I didn't want to see it. The weapon I'd used to kill him. I tilted my head up to look at his mutilated face, again trying to piece it back together, but other long buried memories arose from looking at him – the missing eye and the bullet in his brain… the irony wasn't lost on me at all. Second boyfriend in a row I'd killed…

I don't know how long I stayed; it was only the gentle wailing of a police siren that stirred me, my body reacting instinctively to something my mind couldn't wrap around, just as it had reacted all those years ago, when I heard the beeping of the bomb before it blew up Hughes' yacht.

My legs pushed my body up and started carrying me away from him. My frozen fingers shook and reached into my pocket for my phone, the cold crippling them as I tried to dial. I put the phone to my ear, it quietly buzzed till Shaundi picked up.

"Hey Boss, sup?"

"… I need a ride," I went to say. My voice was barely a whisper.

"Wha – Boss, what's wrong? Where are you?" she said quickly. I slowly looked around for a street sign or landmark.

"…Walking." I said, looking over my shoulder to the truck. The sirens were closer now. They would take him, to the hospital maybe. The Brotherhood wouldn't get him now.

"Y- yeah, but walking _where_? Boss? Hello? Boss!"

"What?" I murmured back into my phone. "Oh, uhm…" I turned a street, looking around, my eyes caught by a neon sign far in the distance. "Apollos… Fox Drive." I said quietly. She was still talking when I hung up on her. The rain saturated me now, washing Carlos' blood from my skin, the ice biting into me which I was glad for – the freezing pain was all I could feel at the moment as I walked towards the neon light, like a moth to the flame.

* * *

><p>"You see her anywhere?" Gat said, peering through the rain and darkness. Shaundi frowned, quickly tapping him on the shoulder.<p>

"There,"

He pulled up to the side of the road, squinting through the darkness as Shaundi leapt from the car.

Her canvas shoes squeaked and sloshed over the muddy grass as she ran to the Boss, gasping. She was drenched, her skin deathly white and lips blue as she trembled with the cold, ebony hair glued with wet down onto her face.

"Boss, what are you doing?" Shaundi breathed, grabbing the other woman by the shoulders. There was cover not far up the road but she was standing there on the side of the road in the rain? The Boss didn't respond, just stepped with Shaundi towards the car; Shaundi threw open the back door and followed the Boss inside, quickly clambering in and slamming the door behind them.

"Jesus," she murmured, grabbing the Boss' hair and twisting water out of it, "Johnny, where's your jacket?"

"Here," Gat said, shifting in his seat and yanking it off his shoulders, twisting to look at the two women.

"Boss! Talk to me, what's happened?" he said quickly spying her torn clothes and bruises, "You hurt?"

She rattled her head no as Shaundi wrapped the thick jacket around her shoulders, rubbing her arms to get the blood flowing again.

"What the _fuck_ were you doing?" he yelled cranking up the heater, his worry bursting forth in irrational anger. Shaundi was pushing wet locks of hair from the Boss' face.

"Boss?" she begged. The other woman just shook her head.

"T-Take me b-back to the hhide-o-out," she stuttered as the cold shook her. Gat swore and thumped the steering wheel in frustration, clicking the auto into drive and pulling away, starting down the road again. Shaundi tried to wrap her arms around the other woman but she was pushed away. There was strained silence in the car while Gat tore through the streets to the Red Light District. Shaundi was stressing and texting people, trying to work out what was going on, calling backup to comb the area. She dialled a number, biting her lip with the phone to her ear, frowning impatiently.

"Dammit," she said, hitting redial and waiting it out again. She whipped it away from her ear after a long wait. "I can't get onto Carlos," she said with a sigh to Gat, quickly dialling another number. Gat regularly flicked his eyes to the rear view mirror to check on the Boss – the tiniest hint of healthy colour was coming back to her cheeks and lips as she warmed up, but there was something off. She had a creepy look about her, not sad or defeated but like… an alien had taken her body as a host. Her blue eyes stared through her reflection out of the inky black window and into the night, not secretly sparkling with the emotions she forever tried to hide; they were empty, the soft lights reflecting on her opaque skin as they pulled up outside the hideout.

She stepped out of the car automatically, both Shaundi and Gat quick to follow, sticking to her like glue as they descended the labyrinth into the hideout. The Boss ignored them both, making a beeline for her room – Shaundi put a hand on Gats arm when he tried to follow.

"I'll get her showered," she said with assurance. Johnny only snorted, shifting Shaundi's hand from his arm and followed the Boss into her room along with the other young woman, sitting himself on the end of the bed to wait as the she closed herself away in the ensuite.

* * *

><p>My hair was only half dry as I pulled the shirt over my head. I pushed the door open and stepped back into my room. Johnny was still there, his phone in one hand, head in the other, shoulders hunched. He turned to look at me, quickly getting to his feet and taking a hesitant step towards me, his expression telling me that he'd found out what happened.<p>

"Boss…" he said in a quiet, slow, pained tone I'd never heard before, "I'm _so sorry_,"

I could hear Shaundi in the hallway; her voice was high pitched and panicked, but hushed in the one-sided conversation which told me she was on the phone to someone. I swallowed carefully, only a little aware I should be crying, but there was nothing there. I pulled back the sheets and slipped wordlessly into bed, turning around to face away from Johnny. I buried lower into the warm quilt and closed my eyes, blinking at the scent that echoed on my pillow, shuddering and letting myself breathe in the spicy coffee scent Carlos had left from the night before. For a little while, I allowed myself to think it had never happened.

I fell back into the old pattern of willing my body to sleep. There was a shifting weight next to me as Johnny lay down on top of the quilt wordlessly, carefully away from me. My tired mind waited patiently for sleep to come.

There was a fleeting, wonderful moment when I woke up, where I honestly believed the whole world was as it should be.

* * *

><p><strong>No voice divine the storm allayed, no light propitious shone;<br>When snatched from all effectual aid we perished each alone.  
><strong>**But I, beneath a rougher sea,  
>And whelmed in deeper gulfs than he.<strong>

**-William Cowper**


	26. B: Girl Talk

**Back again, and thankyou for the reviews. I can remember the first time I played that mission and was shattered when the Boss had to kill Carlos, it's comforting to know I did the scene some justice.**

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><p>His room was still warm.<p>

The air smelt of him, spicy and twisted with the scent of his cologne or deodorant or whatever it was he used. I'd never actually been in here before… I mean I almost had. I would have. I glanced to the bed and its broken promises, half made. It seemed to be the theme in his room, half tidy, half lived in. There was a shirt or two on the floor but not enough to be messy, stuff scattered over his dresser but not enough to be hoarding. My eyes fell on the guitar propped in the corner, silent. Silenced. In the back of my mind I tried to hear the music he used to play, the tune he'd use to entice me to sleep… I realised with a sharp pain I would never hear it again.

I leant against the dresser and sat the bottle up on it, eyes scanning the bric-a-brac there; an ashtray, a lamp, a watch, loose change. A nameplate bracelet without anything engraved on it. There were fliers in a small pile, a few for up and coming Feed Dogs concerts with dates circles, another for a monster truck show, the show name 'Mad Dog' circled in thick black pen, with 'Maero' scrawled next to it. I checked the dates. October 29th to 31st, this weekend.

"Mad Dog." I murmured. "Hardly original, Maero."

My fingers touched the Saint around my neck and my body tensed, like it wasn't my own. My hands clenched and unclenched, I reached for the bottle and I felt sick, like I was about to vomit up my own heart. I could feel it, the darkness crawling over my skin like a tangible shadow, sneaking into my body through my mouth and nose and eyes, infecting me, consuming me.

Carlos… _Carlos_…

God FUCKING DAMMIT

My fingers gripped the bottle neck and I turned around and flung it hard across the room, feeling a sick joy when I saw it explode, cutting and staining the paint on the wall, wanting it to have been a Molotov cocktail and burst into flames. I wanted something killed for him, I wanted things hurt, things destroyed, and I craved it like I never had before. I wanted to burn this hideout to the ground and rip apart the Brotherhood with my teeth if only to taste their death.

I wanted pain. I deserved pain. Carlos was dead because of me.

That realisation thundered through my mind and I suddenly choked, my knees going weak beneath me.

_He's dead because of __you_.

I shuddered to the ground, arms gripping around my middle as that hole began to rip open again, the same one that nearly sucked the life out of me when Aisha was killed. I exhaled a long breath till my lungs shrivelled inside of me and blackness curled at the edge of my vision.

"…_Carlos_" I groaned, barely able to speak. My head hurt and I suddenly gasped for air when I realised I was suffocating myself. I was curled over on my knees, breathing heavily. It was some time before I opened my eyes to the pile and slowed my breaths; I think I was regaining myself. I unfurled, and sat there on the floor with my legs folded under me then brought hands to me cheeks, as if to check.

Nothing.

My phone rang.

I closed my eyes, wanting to ignore it, but my hand moved as if programmed, pulling the phone out of my back pocket. I checked it – Shaundi. My thumb slowly clicked to answer it and put the phone to my ear.

"…Shaundi," I said, my voice steely, "Can it wait? I'm watching _Bobby and Amber_." The lie was said flawlessly and I felt like I was out of my own body.

"_Not really."_ Shaundi said.

"Sup?" I asked, mimicking normalcy.

"_Jessica just walked into the bank with a big suitcase full of money."_

I blinked and the hole in my chest suddenly shrivelled, fuelling my body. The shadows skirmished hungrily over my skin, biting me with sadistic delight. Jessica…

"I'll be right there."

* * *

><p>The car's tyres skidded across the gravel a little as I came to a stop in the small lot overlooking the water. I was trying to calm my breathing; I'd lost the cops, they'd had to split to chase down the backup I'd called for. In the trunk, Jessica had gone quiet. I checked my watch – there was still at least an hour before I needed to get her to the arena; plenty of time to while away.<p>

I pushed open the driver's side door and stepped out, my biker boots crunching heavily over the gravel as I walked to the trunk. I pulled out my gun – she was quiet now but I doubted unconscious – I clicked the trunk open.

Jessica screeched and tried to jump from the trunk – I grabbed her and slammed her body back down, smacking the gun across her pixie face. She yelped and gave a sob, and before I knew it my arm was flying, smashing the butt of my pistol again and again into her face and body. I was blindly beating her, this scrawny little bitch who'd killed Carlos. I hit her till her cheek was cut open and she spat out a tooth, till the black leather covering my knuckles was bloodied and worn. I breathed heavily, leaning back and looking at her pathetic little form, slowly sliding the gun back into its holster on my leg. Jessica was curled up and keening, tears leaking from her bruised eyes and mingling with the blood on her cheeks as she rocked back and forth. I felt my shoulders relax, and reached to my pocket to draw out a cigarette, slowly putting it between my lips and reaching for my lighter.

It wasn't there.

I sighed, taking the smoke from my lips and looking down at Jessica, who was glaring up at me with hate and fear.

"It's just one thing after another, y'know?" I said to her, shaking my head. I reached down to her again and she struggled a little and flinched, but it was no problem. She had a nice silver flick lighter in her back pocket. I stuck the cigarette back into my mouth and flicked the flame into existence.

"Thanks," I said with a slight murmur, protecting the flame as I brought it to the end of the smoke, gently puffing to get the ball rolling. I inhaled deeply, shoving her lighter into my own back pocket, bringing my fingers to my mouth to take the smoke away and breathing out into the air with a good deal of satisfaction. The smoke burned my lungs like it hadn't before – I hadn't even had a cigarette since I burned Shivington, and now with a cold on top of it I really shouldn't have been smoking at all. But at the moment, I was enjoying the pain.

"…What a-are you going to do with m-me?" Jessica whimpered quietly. I rolled my eyes and looked back down to her.

"Play a game of Scrabble. What do you _think_ I'm going to do?" I said dryly. Jessica gritted her teeth and gave a small strangled sob.

"Maero will _kill you_," she hissed, twisting her fragile body in pain. I shrugged.

"We'll see." I said icily. I drew another deep drag and sat down on the back of the trunk, flicking ash to the ground. I turned back to look at her; her hands were up protectively around her face, and I noticed something interesting on her hand.

"_Well_," I said, a little impressed as I grabbed her wrist. She struggled and tried to claw at me with her free hand – I smacked her hard in the face again and she fell back a little stunned, "You wanna stop acting like an ass cos' I don't want to have to put a bullet in you…" I said sharply, gripping her wrist again and pulling her left hand up to me. A large diamond glinted from her ring finger, princess cut, set in platinum. I'd have to get someone to check out and get it valued, but it looked _damn_ nice. I wound the ring off her finger, giving her arm a dangerous twist when she tried to clench her hand into a ball. I sighed looking at it, feeling a little sentimental.

Behind me she sobbed, then started shouting as much as she could, "You give that _back_ to me you _whore!_"

I rapidly smacked her again (there really was something about that word with me), aiming for her piercings, watching them split open her skin and personally ripped out the eyebrow ring when it refused to break free of its own accord, eliciting a loud shriek of pain from her. I ripped the leathery gloves from my hands and stuffed them into her bloodied, foul little mouth. Then sick of her flailing arms I yanked her shoulders and pushed her face down, snagging her wrists and moving them behind her back, holding them down with my knee as I began undoing my belt. I wrapped the leather firmly around her wrists and then pushed her back over to face me.

"_Why_ are people always calling me that?" I mused aloud, shaking my head at her, "I mean… bitch, asshole, _psychopath_, sure. But whore? It's not like I'm sleeping with a different guy every week." I sighed and glanced to the ground.

"Now see, you made me lose my smoke. _And_ that ring…"

She jolted and muffled a sob as I crouched down, spotting the glint of the diamond. I stood again, inspecting it and sticking it into my pocket.

"Couldn't help but notice there's no gold band to go with it," I said, lighting myself another cigarette, "You two had a date set?"

She was gently shaking now as she cried. I sat myself back down on the edge of the trunk, breathing in the stale, acrid taste of nicotine; how I managed to smoke these long enough to get addicted them now I had no idea.

"Y'know Jess, (sorry, can I call you Jess? Thanks.) I once had someone propose to me. I mean, I never got a ring out of it but it was one of those, 'Ooh, I'll marry you one day, you're the one for me baby, blah blah blah'." I took another drag and gazed down at her. "Don't believe me, right? Not surprised. _I_ sure as shit shouldn't have believed him."

"Christ… I was so… _infatuated_ with him. He was this sexy, badass guy… he was the one who taught me how to fight," I said matter-of-factly, "and judging from the way you're looking now he did a pretty good job. Once I was out of high school he convinced me to move here to Stilwater with him – it wasn't hard, I mean my family life was… well, I won't bore you with that story." I inhaled a heavy breath from my cigarette and glanced at her. She'd stopped crying, and was giving me a strange look.

"Oh," I mused, eyebrows rose with a little amusement "This is a familiar story to you, is it?" Her only answer was a blink, then a scowl. I shrugged and continued, "Needless to say, it didn't end well. He did something to me which… I'm _fairly_ certain Maero would have never done to you. I mean I don't know him that well, for all I know he would. Anyway, that's not important."

I flicked some ash, "You're probably wondering what the hell I'm going on about right now, but truth is, after what you did to _me_," I paused, took a drag and continued, "And what _I'm_ about to do to Maero has got me thinking about something a good friend once said to me. Oh, it wasn't Carlos, if that's what you're thinking. Different friend. His girl was killed by the Ronin, and…" I threw a sinister smile over my shoulder to her, and leant in close, "Well, just between us girls, we buried the one responsible _alive_. Listened to him scream the _whole,_ _way, down._" I saw her eyes bulge a little and she started wriggling feebly, "No, don't worry; I've got something else planned for you. If it's any consolation, it should be just as poetic. But anyway, he said something about her that got me thinking, because it was something my uh, _ex_ fiancé-to-be said to me once. Something I can imagine Maero might have said to you before." Something I wonder, that I should have said to Carlos.

"That she was the _light_ to his _darkness_." I finished with contemplation. I looked at her coldly. "Did Maero say that to you? He call you his _angel_? Thing is, Seth (that's the name of the guy I mentioned, the one I dated. In case you didn't know), he said that I was - and this is a direct quote - the _calm white light in his dark world of chaos_… sweet words, I actually believed them for a long time. Well, I thought they were sweet, but you gotta admit a little fruity," I said with a small chuckle at the irony of someone like me ever having been called that. I stood, kicking the gravel, drawing hard on the cigarette and pacing a little,

"It's got me thinking. About _Aisha_ and _me_ and now, I guess, about _you_. Drawn to the dark and dangerous… but _I_ had been taken in by it." I flicked more ash, frowning as I philosophised, "That night that I killed Seth, he killed me too… just in a different way." I rested my hand over the hood of the trunk and leaned over her, leering, "Carlos was the same." I said quietly. Jessica was breathing hard and shaking, "So if you're wondering why I'm going after _you_ instead of Maero, it's because you deserve it more… Your boyfriend took what was _mine_ away." I drew a final, dramatic breath through the cigarette, flicking the butt to the ground and stubbing it, speaking the smoke away, "So I'm going to take his."

I checked my watch, "Speaking of which, we should probably get a move on. I wouldn't miss this show for the world." I said darkly, slamming the trunk shut as she started writhing and kicking again.

* * *

><p>I stood in the shadows of the arena, looking at the old cars all neatly in a row, Jessica's tacked on to the end. The was a roar of an engine – Maero revved his truck and the crowd screamed – he leaned out the window of his vehicle to encourage their yells, blissfully unaware of what he was about to do. Then with a thunderous sound he raced his huge monster truck forward, rumbling over the cars and crushing them beneath the huge heavy wheels, gaining speed and actually becoming airborne as the trunk bounced off an old ruined car. I blinked, leaning forward, watching it descend – and a huge tyre slammed down hard onto the trunk of Jessica's car, crushing it. I could only imagine how she looked inside of it.<p>

Maero began doing doughnuts in the truck, engine revving and roaring, kicking up dust to the screaming crowd. Finally, he got out, hands held high over his 6'6 frame, almost wide as he was tall. His shirt was off, exposing his plethora of tattoos that snaked over his body. I felt a small smile at the huge, red, radioactive burns across his cheek and chin, his red mullet tied back from his face. I smirked at him, and began slowly clapping as I stepped from the shadows. When he saw me, he snarled, marching over, towering more than a full foot above my head.

"I'm going to kill you _right now_." He threatened. I just felt a smile edge on my mouth, a wonderful, satisfying darkness swirling in my heart.

"No. You're not." I said, and tossed him the keys to Jessica's car. He looked to them, seeing the silver J on the key chain, a look of confusion melting into fear when he followed my gaze and saw Jessica's car that _he'd_ crushed. I spoke to him, relishing his pain like nothing I ever had before.

"Do me a favour," I said, my voice feeling icy and alien from my throat, "When you check the trunk, remember you should have offered me something _better_ than twenty."

He only hesitated for a moment before he turned and ran to the trunk. I didn't even look over my shoulder as I left the arena.

* * *

><p><strong>It aint gonna be getting any happier any time soon...<strong>


	27. B: Feed Dogs SUCK!

**... and so does this chapter. Sorry guys. I'll put us a less shitty chapter soon as possible xxx**

**Or maybe I just don't like this chapter because it was like getting blood from a stone, meh.**

**On a happier note, new DLC is coming out for SR3rd soon, and apparently they'll be bringing back an old friend... :D Can't. WAIT!**

* * *

><p>There of course was retribution. I'd forced Maero into killing his girlfriend, he wasn't going to just let things slide, but I'd warned the crew, and we were ready for them. With the North Island under our total control and more and more of the south island in our grasp, the Saints had more territory than any other gang in Stilwater, but in a way, that had become the problem. We'd grown faster than our numbers allowed and were stretched thin and our money was only <em>just<em> starting to really roll in so everything was going to arming my gang and get them ready. When the Brotherhood tried to push us back and reclaim their turf me and my crew pushed back harder.

We needed to weaken them more…

I had to work harder. I had to keep busy…

* * *

><p>Peirce and Shaundi had set up for lunch in my study that day – there was no point going downstairs anyway…<p>

"Yo Boss, you gonna eat that or not?"

The burger sitting in front of me was starting to get cold. The smell of it was making me nauseous.

"I'm not hungry. You have it," I said, pushing it across the table to Pierce. Shaundi reached over to steal my fries and I didn't stop her. I clasped my hands together and rested my forehead on my knuckles, trying to will away the headache that stretched through my swollen sinuses and through my brain, pushing against the back of my eyes and magnifying on the thick cut behind my hairline. I quickly stuck my hand into my pocket and drew out the packet of aspirin, popping a few tablets and throwing them down my throat. I tried to swallow them dry but my throat burned and I quickly grabbed my coke, taking a long drink to wash the tablets down.

"Boss, you ok? You don't look so hot," Peirce said, and I blinked my eyes open to look at him across the table.

"Of course I don't look so fuckin hot." I said darkly, my voice croaking painfully. Christ, even breathing was starting to hurt, and had been since the Shivington fires. I tried to snap my thoughts away from that day but when I did every day following began repeating in my head like a movie on fast forward and I suddenly thought I was going to throw up.

I felt Shaundi's hand on my arm.

"I think you're being too hard on yourself," she said quietly. I pulled my hands away and settled them on the table. _Clear your head and harden the _fuck_ up_.

"Yeah." Pierce piped up, "That car crushin' thing was pretty tight."

I lifted my chin. _Tough. Strong_.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm a fan of my work it's just..." I searched for something to say, "I got so wrapped up in sending Maero a message I forgot to ask Jessica about the shipment."

The shipment! Whatever it was, Maero said it was big, and could be the key to wiping those mother fuckers out of the city… across from me Pierce shrugged and took a large bite out of my burger.

"The bitch is dead." He said with his mouth full, chewing then swallowing before he continued, "Who cares about the shipment?"

"I do." I snapped quickly and my voice didn't sound like my own, "It's something Maero wants, that means I'm gonna take it."

There was a beat of silence and I saw Pierce and Shaundi exchange a glance.

"Alright," Shaundi said, getting up and starting to pace, "There's gotta be someone you can pump for information. What about Donnie?"

I shook my head, "He got man-handled twice, I'm pretty sure he's out of the loop," I thought back to my last 'meeting' with him, and how I'd left him… "If not dead."

I studied the whorls in the wooden tabletop carefully as I thought and Pierce put a thumb to his chin and mused something aloud.

"What about their tattoo artist?" Shaundi suddenly said, snapping my attention to her. Aha, Matt, that's right-

"Good idea," I nodded, and Pierce was for some reason looking from me to Shaundi incredulously.

"_What_ just happened?" he said sharply. I blinked at him. What, was he not paying attention?

"Shaundi had a good idea" I said and he frowned bitterly, waving a hand and started bitching about something.

"Man what the fuck ever she stole my id-"

"Don't be _jealous_ Pierce; we're all on the same team." Shaundi said, dropping back down into her chair with a good deal of satisfaction and propping her feet up, "You said before that this guy was in a band called the Feed Dogs, right?" she asked and I nodded. She grinned, "They're playing tonight. Shouldn't be too hard to crash the show."

"Nice call Shaundi." I said with a nod, "So getting in there-?"

"I wouldn't suggest going through the front door," Pierce said, folding his arms across his chest. Shaundi pulled out her cell and flicked it open with a knowing smile.

"Let me make some calls, I think I got an idea…"

* * *

><p>I carefully checked my SMG as Pierce drove us through into the New Row, the part that used to be known as Copperton. The entry to the truck yard was actually around the other side, but crashing through the back fence would get us in there quickly and sure as shit give us the element of surprise.<p>

"Boss, wind the window up," Piece grumbled. I glared at him; we weren't good driving buddies, always arguing about music or winding the _fucking_ windows up…

"It's hot in here Pierce," I said, resting my head against the door again.

"Hot? Boss it's _god damn_ _November_, it's freezing!"

I leant my face into the cold air and breathed deeply, my lungs burning, but the cold air soothed my hot skin and ate away at the pain throbbing in my head on the cut over my shoulder and scalp. I felt Pierce's hand on my arm, irritating the thick, bruised cut over my shoulder.

"Uhh, seriously now, you ain't lookin so good." He said.

"Look, I haven't been sleeping well, that's all." I snapped and sat up to prove it, readying my guns, "You sure this is gonna be the yard the pyro truck is in?"

"Positive." He said, dropping the subject. I saw him tensing and bracing himself as he sped up, eyeing the fence we were approaching, and I braced myself in turn. Pierce roared the car up a short embankment and straight through the rusted fence, the car jolting a little but ultimately ploughing through, grinding right over the top of some unsuspecting Brotherhood bangers who had been slouching around on the other side. I leaned out the window and started rattling off the SMGs at the smudges of black and red.

"There's the truck," Pierce said quickly and skidded the car to a stop. I kicked the car door open, ducking behind it as a few bullets went whistling by, one thunking heavily into the metal. I ducked out from the cover and fired a few rounds into the Brotherhood guards charging at us. It took time before they fell, my aim was really off today… I growled and shook my head, then in a low crouch made a dash for the truck along with Pierce; he threw the door open and I clambered in first, sliding over to ride shotgun and quickly reloading my SMGs as he clambered in to the driver's seat, twisting the key sharply.

I wound down the window and started firing again, blinking hard to focus on my aim. The truck engine roared into life and the whole vehicle rattled as Pierce slammed the gears, lurching forward and rumbling through the yard and over the top of anyone stupid enough not to jump out of the way. I emptied another clip into one of the little Swindles that had started chasing us down as we tore through the yard and out through the front gates, roaring west through the truck yards. Pierce began fiddling with the radio and I jolted when I heard some Mozart or Beethoven stuff starting to twitter through the stereo in lieu of the Genitorturers that had been playing before. I raised an eyebrow and slowly looked over to Pierce.

"Now see," he said with a grin, "_That's_ real music."

My lungs itched and I coughed a few times, "Uh, Pierce… is there something you're not telling me?" I said coolly. He just waved a hand.

"Whatever, _I'm_ driving, we gonna listen to what _I_ want." He said with a cocky grin. I was about to put my foot through the radio when the truck suddenly jolted forward and I realised we were getting rammed; I tried to lean further out the window and started firing at the little red trucks that were chasing us down, but they kept swerving out of my line of view behind the huge trailer. Pierce swore loudly as we were rammed again.

"There ain't no way we're _sneaking_ in with those fuckers on us," he said, turning sharply around a corner; the truck lurched and for a moment I thought it might tip over. I looked around the cab, spying the small window into the back of the truck. Aha…

"Okay Pierce. Just try and keep it steady," I said, clambering up onto the seat and yanking the window open, threading myself through and tumbling into the pitch black of the trailer, rolling down over a few boxes. I kept stumbling backwards, clambering over the crates till I hit the doors – I took my pistol from its holster and ran my fingers blindly down till I felt the lock, then pressed the muzzle of the pistol to it and fired – the truck hunched up over a bump in the road and the back doors swung open, I teetered and fell sharply back, the noise of outside suddenly flooding my senses.

I looked out to the road that was being sucked away behind us, the Brotherhood trucks swerving around as they tried to keep up. I scrambled backwards, setting my feet up behind a huge crate of fireworks and pushed hard, kicking it onto the road and fired hot bullets into it several times. In two short seconds it rattled giving a huge succession of bangs and brilliant light – then it erupted, fire and colour and noise slamming into the trucks. The little tippy swindles could be knocked over by a strong breeze; a crate of exploding fireworks sent them absolutely flying. I blew a bang of hair out of my eyes, breathing heavily and crossing my legs, watching the scene of anarchy slowly shrinking into the distance.

"Boss! You good back there?" Pierce shouted through the window with a laugh. I glanced over my shoulder to him and waved, looking back to the road as we turned through towards the theatre.

* * *

><p>The Feed Dogs were a shitty band if <em>ever<em> I'd heard one – wannabe punk rockers that'd sucked enough cock to get them out of the fucking garage… Christ sakes, _Cherry Bomb_ would shit all over these guys.

Pierce had been quite proud of his stealthy little plan to get us backstage so was seemingly disappointed when I just stabbed my way past the thin security once we were backstage and made my way straight for the stage, rather than the greenroom like Pierce had suggested.

I narrowed my eyes against the bright lights of the stage and shoved my way past a techie, the sawing of the guitars thundering through my already sore head and I grabbed a guitar from the stand, narrowing my eyes. Time to shut these fuckers up.

I walked out onto the stage, the screaming of the crowd hitting me like a baseball bat and I snarled at Matt, who, oblivious, was throwing his arms up to the crowd and cheering.

Rock'n'roll motherfucker…

I swung the guitar over my shoulder and smacked him hard in the face, blood exploding from his nose and the crowd's screams or excitement turned to fear as the music came to a clumsy stop. I hastily drew my gun when I saw his band members race towards me from their instruments and I quickly turned the gun on them, snarling.

"_Back off_." They all stopped in turn and I pointed the gun to the ceiling, discharging a bullet and the crowd started screaming again, people charging away from the stage and racing for the exits, the last members of the Feed Dogs scrambling over their instruments to get away. Off stage I could hear the clattering of Pierce's gun as he took care of the security guards coming my way.

Mat was curled up on the stage and holding his nose and I stalked up towards him; he saw me coming and started trying to scoot away and I lunged, grabbing him by the shirt and with a grunt flexed my sore muscles and threw him into the drum kit. The crash of the cymbals thundered loudly in my head and I snarled.

"What's the shipment?" I growled at him, picking up a hi-hat stand and advancing on Matt. He rolled out of the drums and crawled over the floor.

"The fuck are you talking about?" he groaned, wavering. I felt a cold sneer distort my mouth and I swung the hi-hat at him, cutting his face open when it impacted.

"Don't fuck with me Matt," I warned, dropping the cymbal and cocking my pistol as he tried to scramble away from me, dragging himself to the edge of the stage, "You got a lot of gear on this stage I haven't played with yet."

He rolled onto his back and whimpered, holding his hands up.

"You gotta believe me, I just tattoo the gang, they don't fill me in on what they're doing!"

Oh _horse shit_, "All that time you inked up Maero and you never heard him talk about a shipment with Jessica?" I snapped levelling the muzzle of the gun between his eyes. He froze and finally gave in,

"All I heard," he said slowly, breathing heavily, "is that it's coming in by boat. They leave me out of the loop on purpose; they were trying to keep me from getting mixed up in their shit!" he finally spat, glaring at me. I narrowed my eyes at the poor fucking baby and stalked up closer, spying a firework jet across the front of the stage, the labelled trigger pedals in a line next to us.

That dark thing was happening again… it snaked into my body and I could actually breath it, this raw, cold anger-

"Your friends should have tried harder." I said. My voice sounded alien, and it wasn't just the raspy throat… I stepped down onto his chest and pressed my other foot over his right hand, the tool of his trade, right over the muzzle of the firework jet… Matt writhed beneath me.

"C'mon I told you everything I know!" he cried. I almost smiled but my mouth wouldn't move.

"Enjoy your retirement Matt." I said softly, then a vicious growled erupted from somewhere in my chest and I lifted my foot from his chest, slamming it down on the trigger pedal next to him. There was a series of loud bangs and flashes of light as the pots of fireworks along the stage began to erupt, closer and closer till the sparks and fire shot up over Mat's hand, the air filling with his screams and the smell of burning flesh… the stink was acrid and it made me want to throw up…

The firework died out and I stepped off Matt – he just curled over and started whimpering, cradling his useless hand. I stepped back over the stage towards the wings, seeing Pierce waiting for me.

"_Daaamn_ Boss!" he said approvingly and with a smile, "That was _tight_,"

I brushed past him, my breaths coming rather quick. I fanned myself with my fingers – it was hot back here…

Boat… Matt said the shipment… I shook my head, my thoughts weren't coming clearly. I pulled out my phone and hit speed dial for Shaundi. She was quick to pick up.

"Shaundi, you know anyone who works at the Docks?" I asked. There was a pause before she answered.

_"Not really,"_

"Looks like you get to make some new friends." I said quickly, stepping through the dark wings of the stage, Pierce following me till we got to the backstage corridor to the green room, "Maero's got a shipment coming in by boat and I want to get it before he does."

_"Ok, I'll take care of-"_

I hung up on her and stuck the phone back in my pocket. Urgh… I heard Pierce whine behind me.

"Boss, you know, _I_ coulda-"

"It's fine Pierce, Shaundi's got it," I said, wiping some sweat away from my brow and leaning against the doorframe to the backstage area. I took a few deep breaths – Christ, it was _really_ hot in here… my clothes were sticking to me with sweat and, and it was making me dizzy…

"I know that but-"

"Shutup Pierce," I said, but it came out as a whisper. I felt heavy, my whole body felt… _sore_ and heavy and the world was tipping. Dammit, why was it so _hot_ in here? It pressed in on my skin and made my cheeks feel like they were on fire… At least my headache was going away…

"_Bossss? W h a t 's w r… a r e y o u o k?"_

"Shuh-dup p…" my vision narrowed, it was really dark backstage… it was getting darker back here… Pierce sounded far away, like he was under water. My headache was gone but I felt nauseous now, my bones were made out of lead aand…

* * *

><p><strong>Uh oh.<strong>


	28. B: Pierce

**This was a... a weird chapter. I uh, am not too sure where it came from or why I felt inspired to write from Pierce's POV. Just hope it sounds like him.**

* * *

><p>The three of us were crammed into the Boss' room and hovering around her bed while the nurse that Gat had called worked on her. Man, I was freaked out and gotta say feeling kinda responsible; I didn't know what to think when the Boss collapsed, all I knew was I had to get her out of there before anyone saw her. I mean I had no idea she was actually <em>that<em> sick. The woman always seemed invincible. Now she looked like a corpse; if it weren't for the two bright red blotches on her cheeks and the rapid, shallow rise and fall of her chest I might have thought she _was_ dead.

'Nurse Nikki' fussed over her, pulling the thermometer from her mouth and checking it, swearing softly. She then pulled a stethoscope from her duffle and plugged it into her ears, turning the Boss onto her side and pressing the drum to her back, frowning as the Boss breathed. I cringed looking at her reaction, she didn't seem happy. Nikki rolled her back over and started listening for her heartbeat, then satisfied, she checked over the cuts on her shoulder and head, now looking swollen and purple and she tutted, scowling. Finally she looked back up to us;

"One of you go grab me some ice or damp towels – we need to try and break the fever," she said and Shaundi was quickly out of the room. Nikki then started hunting through her duffle, pulling out a cool pack and a few needles and syringes, opening them carefully. She drew two small bottles from the cool bag.

"She allergic to penicillin?" She asked, looking from me to Gat. Fuck if I knew what the Boss was allergic to, but Gat just shook his head.

"No," he said quickly, arms folded tightly over his chest as he stood over her bed. Nikki didn't say anything, and just started drawing something milky into a syringe from a little bottle then another from a bottle of clear liquid.

"What're you putting in those?" Gat said quickly. Man, there was over protective, and then there was _this_ guy.

"One's and antibiotic, the other is an NSAID; it should help bring the fever down." Nikki said, unafraid of him, "These cuts are getting infected, the dodgy stitching job isn't really helping, I should probably re-do them."

Gat actually growled, y'know, like a dog or something. Luckily Nikki either didn't hear or chose not to notice. She tugged the Boss's shorts down a little before I had a chance to look away and she quickly jabbed her twice in the hip with the two needles; the Boss made this little squeak and flinched; it was damn weird, she suddenly seemed so… _human_. Shaundi came back into the room with a few damp towels and some ice packs which she got to puttin' about the boss' neck and head.

"… So what's been happening with her?" Nikki asked as she helped Shaundi, "This all looks pretty advanced. Any trauma recently? Drug use?"

"Well, last week she got caught in those fires in Shivington, she was coughing up _heaps_ after that," Shaundi offered.

"Does she smoke?" Nikki asked sharply, and was all nodded, making Nikki heave a sigh.

I glanced to Shaundi then back to the nurse, feeling kinda sheepish, "Next day she got drugged, we ain't sure what with but she was pretty fucked. Not to mention the car crash now _that_ fucked her up, cut open her head and she was bleeding everywhere-"

"Then there's what happened with Carlos…" Johnny added quietly. Nikki shot him a questioning look and he cleared his throat, "She was out in the rain a few nights ago and got _real_ cold I mean, her lips were _blue_. She got pretty sick after that."

"She was _blue?_ And got some bed rest when she started getting sick, right?" Nikki asked warningly. Shaundi snorted.

"If by bed rest you mean downing a fifth of vodka and kidnapping the bitch who killed our friend-"

"The _fuck?_" Nikki said as her jaw dropped, and then pinched the bridge of her nose, but I don't know if she was shocked at what the Boss _had_ done, or the fact she _hadn't_ been curled up in bed with chicken soup, "She at least has been eating ok?" Nikki asked us tiredly.

I cringed – I can't remember the last time I'd seen the Boss eating and she sure was looking thinner. "Well, she's been kinda stressed-"

"I gave'r the anchovies and olives off my pizza yesterday," Johnny said, "She ate those."

We all gave him a flat look.

"Smoke inhalation, physical trauma and infection, concussion, blood loss hypothermia, drug overdose, hypoglycaemia, _and no one once thought to take her to a hospital_?" Nikki said sharply. I caught Shaundi's eye and we were thinking the same thing. Yeah, take the Boss to a hospital. Then I might take Taylor Swift on a date to Saints and Sinners.

"The Boss doesn't need a fuckin' hospital," Johnny shot back quickly, angrily, "She'll shake this off, she's dealt with worse."

"Mr Gat," Nikki said, trying to stay calm around him but fixing him with a serious look, "This isn't a matter of pride. There could be any number of things this has escalated to; pneumonia, mono, septicaemia. We'd have to run blood tests to see what's actually going on here."

"Then take some fuckin blood and go do them, she's _not_ going to a hospital. She's _safe_ right fuckin here so that's where she's stayin." He said, arms unfolding and shoulders back. Damn that fucker could be scary… I don't think there'd be a person alive on the planet (aside from the Boss) who would argue with him. Nikki shied away and looked to her duffle.

"Look… I've got a bag of saline I can hook her up to for now, should help rehydrate her. I'll take a blood sample too, see what I can find out." She pulled out a notepad and began jotting things down onto it.

"You need to check her temperature every couple of hours, if it gets any higher, or if she's still nonresponsive in twenty four hours, you _have_ to either call me or take her to a hospital, ok? When she wakes up you can try her on Gatorade or something, see how she goes, then get her started on Sustagen," She said, then answered our questioning looks, "It's a diet supplement we use at the hospital, I'll get you some, _do not_ give her anything else till I check on her again." She then looked pointedly to Shaundi, "_No_ smoking," then her pointed gaze went to Gat, "_No_ drinking."

Johnny for once was silent and only nodded. Shaundi was curled up next to the Boss and sitting on a pillow, gently stroking her sweat-soaked hair with worry. Nikki started drawing more things from her duffle; a bag of fluid, some bandaging stuff and some tubes that were wrapped up in sterile packs and some needles. She continued;

"Aside from that, you could try rubbing some eucalyptus oil on her chest; she was a bit crackly, it should help break up whatever's in her lungs."

Nikki then got to work setting up the drip line and looked like she was ready to take some blood – I was out of there. I mean, I could deal with a lot but… needles, seeing someone taking blood… urgh.

I stood outside in the hallway and breathed out. Christ… this was bad. The Boss was laid out and we had no idea how long for. Logically Gat would be stepping up to take her place but… that thought worried me. Don't get me wrong, Gat was one badass motherfucker, I'd never want to go up against him myself, but I don't know how good he'd actually be at leading this gang. He was… _tempestuous_. To put it kindly. He was _way_ too impulsive and crazy – the Boss was the right mixture of insanity and intelligence, fearlessness and sense and that's why she'd been able to take us as far as we had. _I'd_ step up, for sure, but I got the feeling no one would take it. I think being _smart_ and actually being able to plan shit wasn't considered admirable in this gang and not for the first time I felt pissed off about it. I had to keep telling myself the Boss appreciated what I'd done, even though she never said it, even when Shaundi was fuckin' stealing my info all the time and getting all the credit for doin' nothing else than lying on her fuckin back. I leant against the wall and breathed deeply. I didn't like getting mad at Shaundi, I mean, when it wasn't business, she was actually a pretty cool chick. But it hardly seemed fuckin fair when I think about the work _I_ put into this gang. I glanced over my shoulder to the room.

_Boss, you'd better get well soon_.

* * *

><p>It turned out that me and Shaundi were the ones who were taking care of most of the business while the Boss was laid out. And even then Shaundi was often busy nursing the Boss back to health. Gat barely left her room, and I don't blame him.<p>

It was a scary few days, and like Nikki had suggested, the Boss got a lot worse before she started getting better. The fever didn't get any higher, but it wasn't breaking either. She was constantly having nightmares, delirious as shit – she even managed to rip out the drip line from her arm which caused a bit of chaos and we had to restrain her down to the bed. The worst of it was when she began crying for Carlos or Aisha, and she'd be groaning and apologising and pleading… it was one of the only time's I'd ever seen Gat willingly leave the room, if only for a moment. Nikki was dropping by twice every day to check on her and give her shots, each time insisting the Boss should be in a hospital and each time getting scared off by Gat who would prowl around her the whole time she was trying to work.

He was starting to look like shit. I don't think he was really sleeping much and when he was he was slouched over in an arm chair that had been dragged into the Boss' room. Gat never did well being cooped up but he wouldn't let her be left alone, so I did the only thing I could think of for him.

I knocked quietly on the door of the Boss' room, edging it open. _Smokey and the Bandit_ was playing quietly on the TV propped in the corner. Johnny was sitting on the edge of the bed, leant forward resting his elbows on his knees. He looked over his shoulder at me as I stepped into the room.

Yep, definitely looking like shit. His glasses were gone from his face and there were these dark circles under his eyes.

"Sup?" he asked tiredly. I frowned and looked to the Boss; her skin was grey and beaded with sweat, her eyes were closed, but her breathing looked like it had slowed.

"… she said anything yet?" I asked frowning. Gat looked away from me, back to the TV.

"She was asking for Carlos before." He said. I frowned and walked further into the room – that didn't mean she was any better, I knew.

"Listen man, I was thinking I could sit with her for a while. You go get a coffee. And a shower." I added after hoping to make him laugh. He only cracked his neck tiredly. I pressed, "C'mon Gat. She'll be aiight, you go recharge. The crew's been getting worried."

After a beat he finally stood up and stretched his shoulders, turning and walking past me. He didn't say anything, only slapped me on the back a few times before leaving the room. I clicked my fingers and glanced about, then settled in the arm chair.

Five minutes later and I was already bored. I don't know how Gat did it. I know I should have been… I dunno, reverent or something but really I just felt useless. I stared at the TV and sighed – then a small noise caught my attention. The Boss twitched. I curiously got up and stepped over to the bed, narrowing my eyes at her. She shivered and I reached out to take the icepack from her forehead. She shuddered again and I sat down on the edge of the bed, sighing.

"You better not start flailing around again Boss. Don't wanna have to handcuff you down like before." I said conversationally.

"…Yeah, you'd fuckin love that wouldn't you?"

I just about jumped out of my skin when she responded – I looked back down to her, stunned, and saw her eyes slowly opening to look at me.

"I- you-" I had to laugh as I realised she was entirely lucid and blinking back at me, "Holy _shit_ Boss you gave us all a fuckin scare!" I said, gripping her wrist. She slowly shifted her shoulders and drew a long breath.

"How long was I out?" she asked, blinking tiredly about the room. I grinned at her.

"Don't worry, only about two days, not three years," I told her and she almost gave me a wry smile. God damn, I was so relieved.

"You been taking care of everything, haven't you?" she asked, though it sounded like a statement rather than a question. I raised an eyebrow at her, not about to lie.

"Yeah. Don't worry Boss, everything's under control." I said. She nodded then closed her eyes again, sighing.

"Knew you would," she said, and her fingers weakly patted my arm. I sat up a little straighter. The Boss _knew_ I'd take care of everything, huh? _Damn_ fuckin' straight! It just about made up for every overlook in the past.

* * *

><p>If the Boss was hard to keep under control when she was feverish it was <em>nothing<em> to her being awake.

She hated being fussed over as much as she hated being captive; I think we'd all been hoping she'd be as tired as she was those days after Aisha's funeral. The trouble happened when she was told she _had_ to stay in bed and _couldn't_ leave. The Boss was one tenacious bitch. No matter how much she insisted she was better, Nikki insisted she still had to recover, and anxious as we all were by the Boss' being sick, we were taking Nikki's side on it.

I was still keeping a lid on things at the business end, and aside from the Saints being a little quieter than normal I don't think anyone on the street would have suspected our Leader had been so close to death. In fact, things had been kinda quiet on all fronts, but I was pretty certain it was calm before the storm. Course, I was right.

I was runnin' through numbers with the TV on in the background when a news report flashed up on the screen, the anchorman grabbing my attention,

"_In local news, it had been announced that several high-ranking members of the notorious street gang, 'The Brotherhood', have had sentences overturned, and will be released today on probation – for more we cross live to Jane Vald-"_

I stood up from my chair – shit. Those fuckers were getting released _now_? I cracked my knuckles and quickly tried to put together a plan – we needed them stopped before they could regroup with Maero. I could get some boys together, but a target that big, a convoy of what, three busses and fuck knows how many cop cars... I'd need someone dangerous, someone crazy.

Pretty much left only one option. I jogged up the stairs and swung around into the Boss' room –

"Gat!"

He and the Boss were sitting up on the bed, game controllers in hand, both furiously taking chainsaws to a hoard of digital zombies on the TV. I spied the TV remote and quickly changed the channels.

"Pierce, the _fuck-_"

"Watch!" I said quickly, clicking over to the news report. Jane flashed onto the screen, reporting in front of a row of prison busses.

_"In a surprising turn of events, several members of the Brotherhood are being released today. A previously thought open and shut case turned into a fierce legal battle, as several high powered attorneys fought tooth and nail for their clients' freedom. Curious about the proceedings, I spoke to chief of police, Troy Bradshaw._

Both Gat and the Boss froze at this and tensed up. The Boss' expression was cold, but Gat snarled at the Chief of police.

_"My personal opinion on the trial doesn't really matter. They were found innocent by a jury of their peers."_ He was saying.

_"So you think they were guilty?"_

"_I'm sorry Jane listen I have to get back to work, hey why don't you try talking to Dane Vogel?"_

There was a cut in the footage as it blinked to the next interview, showing Jane with that slime ball suit who'd actually strutted his way into our hideout once.

_"Mr. Vogel, what's Ultor's interest in the trial?"_

_"Ultor has no interest in the trial other than to see criminals get put behind bars."_

"_So there is no truth to the speculation that the Brotherhood's lawyers are in Ultor's pocket?"_

"Bet there's _plenty_ of truth to that…" the Boss muttered coldly. It wasn't what Vogel said.

_"Jane we've donated millions of dollars to the Stilwater PD as well as rebuilt the shattered community of Saints Row, I understand that everyone likes to pick on the big corporations but this latest groundless attack on Ultor's integrity is just ridiculous."_

I had my phone out while I listened, texting my crew. Johnny was cracking his knuckles as he listened, and the Boss was watching the screen intently, controller forgotten.

I spared her a glance – she still looked like the living dead. Not just that she was pale and thinner and had dark circles under her eyes, but that there was actually something in her expressions and the way she talked that was off. She was vacant – I guess I'd just been expecting more of a reaction to us losing Carlos…

_"Behind me, the men and women being loaded up onto these busses are being given another chance at freedom. But the question remains, are we also giving them another chance, at a life of crime? I'm Jane Valderama, Channel Six News."_

"Right," The Boss said, sitting up and pushing the blanket down. Gat quickly put a hand to her shoulder,

"Whoa no you don't." he said, attempting to press her back down onto the bed, "You stayin' here Boss."

She gave him a dark, dangerous look, "_Fuck_ you say?" she asked quietly. Gat was probably the only person who'd never been scared by that look. He began to placate her and I watched them curiously. These two had a fuckin' bizarre relationship; I'd never been too good at being 'just friends' with girls, even ones that _weren't_ that hot and I don't know how Gat did it with _her_, especially since the Boss could be pretty fuckin' spunky when she wanted to be. Not my type, but still. I'd seen her get dressed up before, I mean, she was a bit of a babe, though I don't think she really knew it. But her and Gat, man, I seen married couples who weren't as close. Gat was sitting down by her and had her wrists in his hands.

"We need you to get back to you ass kickin self and that ain't gonna happen unless you get some real rest. You got no idea how sick you were, it was fuckin scary." He confessed – I tried looking away but it was pretty obvious they'd forgotten I was in the room (story of my life…). The Boss looked down at his hands and leant in, he pulled her into a one-armed hug, his other arm reaching for something tucked under the mattress.

"I get it Johnny," she said coolly, her voice still croaky, "But you know that's not going to stop me."

Gat nodded against her, "I know," he said, and I heard a weird metallic sound.

He suddenly pinned her down and she yelped, and I saw him quick as a flash click the handcuff over her wrist, wrestling with her and clipping the other end onto the pipe that ran along the wall behind her. Her protests stopped suddenly when she realised what had happened, eyes wide and jaw dropped.

"_That's_ for punchin' me in the nuts the other week!" Gat said quickly. Half a second later and she was lunging at him, yanking against the restraint and shouting like a maniac, swinging at Gat with her free arm and calling him every cursed name under the sun and Johnny was running from the room and shoving me ahead of him. I all but sprinted from the room with him, the Boss' furious shouts chasing us,

"_JONATHAN GAT _YOU GET BACK HERE RIGHT_ FUCKING NOW!"_

I snorted a laugh and beside me Gat actually looked a bit pale, "Man, you gonna be in so much shit when we get back."

Gat was taking the stairs two at a time and I raced to keep up with him.

"Don't I fuckin' know it," he said with a laugh, and we both burst from the mission doors and made a jog for his Bootlegger, throwing open the trunk and pulling out guns from his absurd choice of weaponry stashed in the car, "So where're these fuckers gonna be?"

"They'll be coming back by boat, should be docking down near the university then goin' by bus back to the Brotherhood territory, got my boys on the lookout for them so should get the exact location soon." I said, clambering into the driver's seat when I noticed Johnny taking shotgun position. I was fine with him doing all the shooting. I quickly reversed and swerved out of the lot, speeding south.

We were quiet for a beat, and finally I had to broach something.

"So… we got a date set for Carlos?" I asked, "I've been getting these calls from the funeral director, they're trying not to get pushy but-"

"Yeah," He said quickly, "I haven't asked the Boss yet but I'm thinkin' Wednesday, if they're ready to go then."

We fell silent for a moment. Carlos… man, it didn't seem real. He was way too young for that shit.

"… That poor kid… and the _Boss_. I mean, they were hookin' up, weren't they?" I shook my head. Didn't seem fair to her.

"Apparently. I mean… I dunno how long for," Gat said coolly. I tried to hold back a chuckle.

"I'm pretty sure for Carlos it was since he busted her outta jail," I said and had to smile. The way he'd looked at her, followed her around like a lovesick puppy and she, _somehow_, had been totally oblivious to it. I could at least be glad for _him_ it hadn't wound up being some unrequited shit. Beside me Gat shifted and checked his rifle restlessly.

"Yeah, well, it wouldn't surprise me if he was more into her than she was with him." He said and I glanced over to him. Whoa, jealous much? I knew I was fucking with fire now but couldn't help it. I mean if _I_ was Gat I'da been worried about Carlos pushin' me out of the second-in-command position. Then again, I wasn't Gat, so I dunno if that's what he was worried about.

"What, I think she liked him too." I suggested. Johnny began rechecking his gun like he'd suddenly developed OCD.

"I know she did." He growled quietly, and then added after a pause, "I should have been cooler with him. I mean he was an alright guy, and if the Boss thought so…" he stopped himself from finishing the sentence.

"…You weren't too happy about him getting involved with her, huh?" I commented lightly, suggesting nothing. It still got me a short dark look from him.

"Not totally, no. I mean, he was never going to be good enough for her _not_ sayin' that he wasn't a nice guy or anything but… come _on_." he said, then made a sardonic sound and looked out the window. I thought he was done but he began speaking again after a beat, "I mean I always figured the guy or girl she wound with would be someone more _badass_ than that kid." He said, fidgeting. I only raised an eyebrow as he continued, "Someone tougher, y'know. Crazier. More dangerous and _definitely_ someone taller than him."

I bit my tongue and _almost_ laughed out loud. Johnny looked back out the window pensively.

"Yeah well if I see anyone like that I'll let you know," I said, trying not to sound mocking. I didn't want to laugh – it would have been wrong. There was a long silence and then something weird happened; Gat kept talking.

"It's just now the kid's gone I can't help realisin' what did for her. She looked younger around him. Like she was when she first joined up with the Saints and was hardly ever sayin a damn word. She was calmer."

I glanced sidewards to Johnny; he never talked about anything, ever, least of all to _me_. I guess seeing the Boss get so sick had worried him enough he needed to get it off his chest.

"… Now it's like… She's not the same."

"I noticed… Listen man," I started, trying to concentrate on driving. Johnny looked to me sharply as if he'd only just realised I was there, "She'll get better, she just needs time. The Boss is tough."

Damn, she'd _better_ get better.

"Damn fuckin straight," Johnny murmured back without heart.

My phone beeped beside me and I snagged it, quickly answering.

"What you got for me?" I asked quickly down the line. Wheeler's voice answered me; he was one of the best drivers the Saints had, 'Wheeler' was, conveniently, his last name.

"_Got visual on the busses, heading south down Encanto. We're trailing them; pretty sure they haven't noticed us yet._" He said quickly. I nodded.

"Almost there. We're in Gat's Bootlegger; keep your distance till you see us," I glanced at the pipe bombs Gat had ready, "And uh, don't get _too_ close to the busses, there's gonna be some 'splosions. See if you can get onto some of the boys in the Truckyards and organise a quick roadblock," I tried to estimate where they would be heading; beside me Gat wound his window down and readied a few pipe bombs.

"_No problem Pierce. Following your lead._"

I hung up after that, tearing the car swiftly down the straight on the edge of Sunsinger. Ahead there was an intersection and I felt my heart jump as a cop car rolled by, then followed by a prison bus. I sped up and Johnny shifted in his seat, readying to lean out the window.

"Here we go," I said with a grin, adrenaline beginning to pump through my veins; been a while since I'd seen some action. I swerved the car around and before the convoy knew what had happened we were alongside them, and Gat was opening fire. There was a roar of engines behind us as our backup sped to catch up. Gat was shouting like a freakin Viking as he fired on them, and I pushed the car faster, catching up to the cop car in front as it tried to speed and swerve. I was annoyed the car was an auto, they were harder to push, but this was Gat's car and he was notoriously bad at driving stick.

Gat grabbed a pipe bomb and quickly flicked his lighter, ignited the fuse and tossed it onto the road. The bomb rolled back under the busses and there was a deafening explosion as it lifted the middle buss clear off the ground, the engine in kind exploding and turning the busload of Brotherhood into a twisted mess of fire and metal. Gat cheered and started firing again as the Brotherhood bus behind it swerved sharply as it sped, tilted, then rolled into the crash. I checked the rear view mirror and saw our backup swarming it, a state of absolute anarchy.

"That was fuckin' _beautiful_." Gat said with a laugh, slapping me hard on the shoulder and began firing hard at the wheels of the last bus, the one that had been leading the convoy. Jesus _Christ,_ this man was a god damn _nut job_… Behind us another cop car arrived and bullets were soon whistling past us, shattering the rear view mirror. I gritted my teeth and yanked the car into oncoming traffic, Gat swearing loudly and ducking back inside, narrowly missing getting hit by a pickup that scraped by us.

"Some fuckin _warning_ next time?" he shouted. I didn't reply, just concentrated on swerving through the oncoming traffic. Behind us the cop car tried to keep up – I kept glancing from the rear-view mirror to the road ahead, finally seeing the cop clip another car and swerve off the road. I jerked the Bootlegger back to the right-hand side and Gat was out the window again, doing his thing. There was a loud _bang_ from outside and the sudden jerking and swerving of the bus next to us told me Gat had taken out the front wheel. I slammed the brakes and jolted hard against my seatbelt, Gat getting thrown forward and smacking hard into the dashboard – the Bootlegger skidded, dropping behind the buss when it lurched over and fell heavily onto its side, still sliding up the road. I felt a cold weight drop into my stomach when I realised how close it had come to landing on top of us. The car finally came to a full stop, and Gat groaned, rubbing his head.

"Again, Pierce," he said coolly, "How about _some_ _FUCKING warning next time!_"

I jolted at him shouting, "Sorry man, I just didn't feel like getting flattened by a god damn bus," I snapped back. He grumbled and sat back in his seat, watching as our backup began surrounding the bus like they had before, climbing up and hunting for anyone unlucky enough to have survived. I caught my breath for a while – hell, I wanted action, I sure as shit got it. Gat watched the crew doing their thing with dark satisfaction and actually gave a chuckle. I swear, the guy was one lab accident away from being a super villain.

"So. We gonna go back and free the Boss now?" I asked Gat slyly. He cringed when he remembered how we'd left her.

"Well, I guess that'd be the right thing to do." He said casually, and then added as an afterthought, "On the other hand, I'm pretty happy with where my testicles _are_. Catch twenty two."

I snorted and started a laugh he didn't share, "Man, you're so _fucked_…"

"Hey, can't be that bad. She's had time to cool off." He said. I just grinned.

"Meaning she's also had time to _plot_," I suggested. Gat's face went a touch pale again and I shrugged, "Though you _did_ say it was payback for her punchin' you in the nuts the other week, maybe she'll let you have this one."

Again, Gat didn't share the joke.

* * *

><p><strong>Ah, a bit of fun. Any feedback on this would be AWESOME!<strong>


	29. Johnny

**If I was nervous about publishing the last chapter it's nothing to this one. Fingers crossed I did an okay job...**

**In other news, I looked at the word count on Ressurrection and Birth today. Not including little drabbly bits like this at the start of the chapters it's still over 100,000 words.**

**_Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone_ official word count? 76,944.**

***sigh* I'm wasting my life...**

* * *

><p>There was a bit of grass growing up by the plinth, and I knelt down, ripping it up to clear it away.<p>

"Sorry Eesh," I mumbled. "I know I ain't been visiting much…"

I brushed my palm over the marble to clear the name and the epitaph. I wasn't gonna stop here – Carlos had only just been buried a few plots over and the huge crowd was finally dispersing. Pierce and Shaundi were with the Boss, hovering around her but she was distant, ignoring them. Like I said, I didn't mean to stop here, but after that ceremony I needed someone to talk to.

Eesh always knew what to do.

The first time I'd visited I'd felt like a jackass talking to the stone angel but it had gotten easier. I could think clearly here.

"Just buried a friend," I said, standing and sticking my hands in my pockets "Well, we weren't ever that close but he and the Boss were. Heh, you'd be happy to know."

I looked to the thick patch of grass that covered her – that cold thing slipped into my gut again, a little worse today.

"I could really use you now babe," I muttered aloud. "… it's the Boss. She's like a fuckin zombie. I kept waitin' for her to react at the funeral but… y'know, there was nothin'. She just put a lily on the coffin, watched him go down, never moved, never said a word."

I cringed and rubbed a hand over the back of my neck.

"I been tryin to keep her busy since she got better, y'know, blowin' shit up, killin' off some of those Brotherhood assholes. Nothin' like a little destruction to keep her distracted. She didn't do too well after y-" fuck, things are easier thought than said… "Shaundi told me she'd tried to _sleep_ herself into oblivion and I didn't want that happening now. Then she got sick, I mean, _really_ fuckin sick. Dammit I already lost you and…"

I stepped forward and put my hand on the marble. I glanced past it to the crowd and saw most of them had already gone. The Boss was leaning up against the tree; lighting up a cigarette till Shaundi came over and took it away from her. Huh, brave move there kiddo…

"You always got her to talk to you." I said, then with a dry laugh, "Y'know I actually got jealous of that sometimes. That she'd tell you things she didn't tell me… I gotta know _how_ babe. I'm losin' her here. She ain't the same."

I gripped the marble harder like it might be a conduit to her and lost myself in thought.

After what happened to Eesh I was all kinds of wrong. I think the best way I can say it was 'unbalanced'. Kinda like a yin with no yang. The Boss was the only person who managed to keep me together. Now she and Carlos weren't even really together for a day before he was taken away from her.

"You know _that's_ what shits me the most, that she _hadn't_ gotten time with him." I said sharply to the stone angel, knowing Eesh would've felt the same… "She finally starts opening up and what does she get? What's her fuckin reward? Having to mercy kill the poor bastard after seeing him getting tortured by those Brotherhood cunts."

I quickly cleared my throat. "Sorry," I muttered. Eesh never liked that word.

"I'm tryin to take care of her," I closed my eyes and sighed, "…I really wish you were here right now."

Saying that made me even more uncomfortable. November sixteen was approaching way too fast now and was reminding me of what I'd promised myself I'd do this time next year. I didn't think I'd ever be the marrying kind – honestly I don't think I ever will be, but with Eesh… I dunno. I wanted her to at least know I'd thought about it. Maybe it was better I hadn't – I'd been poisonous enough for her as it was.

I didn't have to look when I heard the footsteps behind me, I knew who it was. The Boss stopped next to me, a hand on the back of my shoulder comfortingly. Her comforting _me_, huh?

"Sick of people asking how you're doing?" I asked, looking down at her. I hoped for a moment I saw a smile but of course, there was nothing there. She hadn't even _hinted_ at a smile since that day she was drugged by the Samedi.

"You know me too well," she said, hand slipping off my shoulder and she leant against me a little. I could see her looking towards the angel and followed her gaze.

"Wanna go for a drive?" I offered. It's what she used to do with me whenever I was feeling down. We'd maybe hit the jumps or just blast music or whatever. I stupidly made an attempt at humour, "Dack me and lock me on the helipad again? Not your most creative course of revenge, I might add."

The best reaction I got for that was her shifting her weight from one foot to the other, "… Can't. The wake is back at the downtown loft and-"

"Boss, you don't have to go if you don't want to." I said quickly and she looked to the ground.

"Yes. I do. It's my job." She said and it was in that fuckin empty tone again. I wanted to grab her and shake her by the shoulders, I'd rather have her screaming or crying or breaking things – hell, I'd even take her smacking me across the face like she did the morning of Eesh's funeral but _this_ shit… it was like she wasn't even there.

I slung an arm over her shoulder but she might as well have been the marble angel we were staring at. I kept thinking that some good old fashioned destruction was all she needed but that hadn't helped. What would Eesh have done? Well, not take her out blowing up trucks, that's for sure… then I blinked. What would Carlos have done? That really got me thinking… I mean, I didn't play guitar like some fuckin' college stud but… a new idea began to stir at the back of my thick skull.

"So we make a cameo." I offered, and she nodded. A moment later we turned together and began walking back over the grass and in a moment of freaky unison, both snorted, hocked and spat on the patch of earth that cock-sucker Shogo was buried under.

* * *

><p>I woke up abruptly at five am and knew I wouldn't be going back to sleep. I cringed when I realised what day it was…<p>

November sixteen could go suck a cock.

I swung my legs over the side of my bed and with a tired grunt got up. At least this would warrant beer for breakfast. I dragged myself out of the room I crashed in and into the large, empty foyer of the hideout, jumping up over the bar and hunting around in the fridge for a brew. I was unsurprised at the voice that suddenly echoed through the hall from upstairs.

"Johnny, if that's you could you grab me one too?" the Boss called out – not unusual. She never really slept nowadays. I had to chuckle at her unique little sixth sense though, remembering when she'd pulled the same stunt with Shaundi when she was high and the girl wound up having a huge freak out. I snagged a second brew and twisted the caps off, clambering back over the bar and headed for the steps. Like I expected, she was in her office, curled up on the low couch and staring at the TV, her fingers toying with the pendant around her neck, the one Carlos had given her. Only now there was something else added to the chain and I narrowed my eyes to try and make it out – it looked like a ring. She still wasn't looking a hundred percent; kinda thin, y'know? Dark circles under her eyes too. I noticed a large crate stashed in the corner but then, there was often lots of weird shit in her office. The Boss forced herself to smile when she saw me – it looked like a lot of effort.

"Took your time. Or is that knee giving you trouble, old man?" she joked.

"Fuck you Boss," I said, but couldn't help smiling with relief. She was trying to joke, this was a good sign. I handed her the brew and dropped down on the sofa next to her, and she lifted the bottle in a salute before drinking.

"To the birthday boy," she said, and I cringed, taking a swig from the bottle.

"Don't remind me."

"C'mon Johnny, you don't want your present?" she said. Admittedly that got my attention and I looked to her with raised eyebrows. She reached behind the sofa arm and produced an old crowbar, handing it to me.

"… A crowbar. You shouldn't have," I said dryly and she nudged me with her foot.

"If I can afford to get an elevator installed in this place, I _think_ I can get you something better than a crowbar." She said, then nodded over to the crate in the corner. I blinked, then gave a wry smile, setting my beer down and getting to my feet.

"Ah, the plot thickens," I said, walking to the crate and feeling my curiosity growing. The Boss twisted where she sat to watch me make short work of the crate, pulling the boards apart.

"I don't know how practical it is," she was saying, "Just… something for a bit of fun."

I yanked another side of the crate away and the wood clattered to the ground, spilling a large piece of packing foam and a fuel cylinder. I blinked, pushing the rest of the wood and packaging away, showing piece by piece a large gun with-

Oh holy shit.

I burst out laughing, "A fucking _flamethrower_?" I turned and looked back at the Boss, who was looking quite pleased, "Impractical my _ass_, this is fuckin _fantastic!_ Well, y'know, insane but still… Where the fuck did you get this thing?"

"EBay." She said, deadpan enough to give away the joke. I shook my head and felt another laugh and I dropped the crowbar, unable to stop grinning. I admittedly thought it would be a new rifle or a stash of ammo but this… this was gonna be fun.

I walked back towards the sofa, arms out and she stood up on the cushions to welcome the hug. I wasn't a huggy person, but this sure as shit warranted one.

"Thanks Boss. It's seriously the coolest thing I ever got." I laughed, holding her in close. Her arms were tight around my neck.

"Happy birthday Johnny," she said softly, her chin resting on my shoulder and I pulled her in tighter. It wasn't just the gift, it was relief. She was exerting herself for me, looking like she was getting back to normal.

We eventually pulled out of the hug and she sat herself on the back of the couch, feet still up on the cushions. I just grinned and looked back over at the _freakin' flamethrower_ I was now the proud owner of.

"Sorry to ask, I mean, I should know this, but does this make you twenty eight or nine?" she asked, tilting her heard. Anyone else and I might have glared at them, but with the girl I could only give a wry grin.

"Eight," I said, glancing to the TV at the quiet voices coming from the speakers. Ah _crap,_ _Bobby and Amber_. How or why she watched this shit I had no idea. Must be insanity brought on by insomnia.

She nodded then shrugged, "Eh. You ain't that old."

"Hey Boss, I got you something too," I said, holding out a hand which she took and helped her up. I was going to show her later today when I had everything together, but if she couldn't sleep she may as well be doing _anything_ other than watching _Bobby and _Fucking _Amber_.

"Why? 'Snot my birthday for over a month," she said and I grinned; ha-ha, she slipped up there!

"So… late December early January huh?" I glanced over to her. I knew nothing about the Boss' life before I met her (aside from her having a waitressing job at fourteen and one cock-sucking ass-faced _bastard_ of a dead boyfriend) and she was _always_ so damn careful about not letting anything slip. She scowled at me, stuck her hands in her pockets and wouldn't answer. I just kept smiling and lead the way down the stairs towards the range and she trotted along beside me.

"Christmas baby then? New years?"

"Leave it alone Johnny," she said tiredly, "Shaundi's already planning _you_ a party, there's no way I'm letting her know I even _have_ a birthday. For all anyone knows, I appeared from the ephemeral over the course of several months."

"I'm gonna pretend to know what you meant there," I said, hoping for a chuckle. No luck. We went through the Range, one of the few times of the day when it was silent, and out into another section of the courtyard. I felt my chin lift a little and turned to her, smiling.

"Okay," I said, indicating to the long brick wall down the side that the boys had painted white.

"… A wall. You shouldn't have," She mimicked me with an eyebrow raised. Smartass.

"Yo shutup, it ain't just the wall." I walked towards it, a pile of random, half-filled paint tins and spray cans stacked by a pylon. I was going to pick more up later that day but for now, it'd have to do, "You gonna paint me something."

She didn't say anything as she stepped up to stand next to me, looking from me to the paints to the wall.

"… I am, am I?" she asked, but didn't sound annoyed. She took a few more steps towards the wall and tilted her head. I stuck my hands in my pockets.

"Yeah well… you ain't been paintin' much lately. Time was you'd be out every weekend taggin' some shit so… Thought you might miss it."

She looked over her shoulder to me, she had a weird expression over her eyes that for some reason I couldn't quite read.

"You want anything specific?" she asked. I shrugged, taking a few steps towards her.

"You sketched anything good lately?" I teased. Then, thankfully, I saw her smile. For the briefest second. Thank _fuck_, she managed to smile.

"So I paint whatever I want?"

"Whatever you need to Boss." I said, patting a hand on her shoulder. She quickly put her hand over mine but didn't say anything.

I felt myself smile. Good move, Johnny.

* * *

><p>The girl stayed there most of the day – I was in and out, sometimes with beer or pizza but mostly she just wanted to be alone. Eh, I guess it was an artist thing. In fact she was sketching till about midday before she actually started painting. I went out with Pierce and some of his boys to shoot some pool, then had a quick talk to Shaundi about what she was planning that night. We agreed low key, so by Shaundi's standards, I could probably expect a three day bender. In fact, the only time the Boss left the dungeon was to see me test-driving the <em>freaking awesome<em> flamethrower in the parking lot.

That bitch could spit fire _thirty fucking feet_ and had a whole dumpster blazing in under _two_ seconds. Could imagine sticking it on the back of a truck and tearing through the Brotherhood territory setting every one of those motherfuckers alight…

It was about four in the afternoon before I made my way back down. The progress in those few hours was amazing; it was only about a third of the wall that was coloured, most of it still plain and white. But the Stilwater skyline stretched across it, partially coloured in with grey and orange and purple making it look like a sunset, painted over it were the outlines of cars and guns and… eyeballs? I wasn't sure. But dominating the space she _had_ painted was three figures. I recognised them, even though they were only half filled in. The three people, standing together. Lin. Eesh. Carlos.

I looked around and didn't see the Boss right away – for a moment I thought she might have left but I saw a sudden shift against the wall; she was curled up in the shadow, and her shoulders were shaking –

I ain't ever seen the Boss cry before. Once or twice, I think she _almost_ did, after Lin and after Eesh… but never actually seen tears in her eyes. I wasn't sure if I should interrupt her but I was walking over before I could stop myself. She was sitting up with arms wrapped around her knees and her head leant forward, her face hidden by a lock of hair that gotten out of the bun she'd twisted up the back of her head and stuck with a paint brush. Her shoulders shook hard with silent sobs and I crouched down, about to put a hand on her shoulder.

Then her head snapped up and she sighed, scowling, then gave me a hopeless look with those baby-blues of hers. No tears. Not even a glisten. She waved a hand to indicate to her dry cheeks.

"Nuthin." She said, then slouched back against the wall, her legs stretching out. I don't know if I was relieved or not that she wasn't crying but it was pretty funny actually to see her trying so hard. I slouched down on the ground next to her, and we both looked back up to her painting.

The bodies were rough and splattered, incomplete at the moment, but the faces were… I mean I knew she could paint, but this was getting freaky.

Lin's dark eyes bore threateningly into mine, the same bitchy coldness I remembered from my old friend. And Carlos… he didn't look dangerous, but it was unnerving actually, the way his huge brown eyes watched us.

But Aisha's portrait looked back with a softness the others lacked. The Boss had painted her like she looked years ago, at the height of her career, the long hair over her shoulders, before she'd cut it all off to make it easier to throw on wigs and shit to come see me in jail. It was really something…

"Yo, you missed a spot." I said lightly, pointing to the wall. The Boss threw me a dry look, jolting her head and jabbing the end of the paintbrush that held her hair up onto my cheek. Something cold and wet stuck to my skin and I growled wiping the back of my hand over it, a smudge of purple paint stuck over my skin. Yuck.

"There. Got it." She said, and I had to smile, "How long've I been down here?" she said with a yawn. I checked the time on my phone.

"Officially? About eleven hours now."

"You're shittin me?" she said, looking to the mural and sounding disappointed, "Hoped to have gotten more done…"

"It looks fuckin brilliant Boss," I said, nodding in approval. She nodded, rubbing her hands together to wear off some of the paint and tried to hide another yawn.

"You comin to the loft?" I asked, nudging her hopefully. She pulled the paintbrush from her hair and tossed it away, doing that supermodel thing where they flick their hair down. She rested her head on my shoulder.

"F'the party? 'Course I am. Couple'a red bulls and I'm good to go," she said as she yawned, her eyes looking like they were about to slip closed. She was staring at the painting, and for a moment I saw something flash across her face. I frowned, watching her carefully. She cringed, and I realised she was trying to cry again. Poor girl – I personally would've gotten my tear ducts removed if it meant never having to worry about crying but here she was, trying to find some kind of release. I shifted and put my arm around her shoulder and tugged her in close, wondering if that would help but she just gave an angry sigh.

"Chrissakes…" she grumbled, "Johnny, am I dead inside?" she said, turning to look up at me grumpily. I had to chuckle.

"Yep." I said, and she gave me a weak thump on the chest, then shifted in closer, her head resting in the crook of my shoulder. Still, I didn't like her thinking like that and I tried to think of something sweet to say.

"… You're just hibernating." I said, nudging her, and her shoulders shrugged with a silent laugh. She yawned again, and I watched as her eyes slipped closed. After a while her breathing slowed and deepened.

"… Stop staring at me, I'm fine," she said suddenly and I blinked. Had I been staring?

"Sorry," I said, my gaze catching again on her necklace, the pendants sitting comfortably in the hollow at the base of her throat. I was right about the addition, it was a ring… a _huge_ fucking diamond ring, actually. An engagement ring. I blinked at it. The _fuck_?

"Shit Boss," I said, reaching over to tug at the chain and look at the massive diamond, "what the hell's this?"

She blinked open her eyes sleepily and looked down at it. After a moment she lifted her gaze, but not her chin and looked up at me from beneath her lashes, a familiar dark smirk crawling over her mouth.

"Jessica's engagement ring." She said smilingly. I gave a short laugh and for some reason felt relieved, I don't know what I'd been thinking.

"Boss, there's twisted, and then there's you," I said with admiration. She was one _hell _of a woman. She plucked the pendant from my fingers, studying it for a moment before letting it drop back down onto her skin. Closing her eyes again, she rested back down onto me.

"Think I might get it melted down into a nicer pendant. Skull, maybe an ankh" She said sleepily, her body beginning to relax.

I nodded and let her rest. She needed sleep and should probably take it anywhere she could get it. I looked back up to her painting; she had talent, I'd give her that. We used to go out tagging together back in the day – and by tagging I mean she would paint and I would stand back and loudly point out the parts of the wall she'd missed till she'd turn around and start chasing me down and spray painting _me_. I felt my shoulders shrug with a silent laugh at the memory and she grumbled next to me, shifting to be more comfortable.

"… Johnny?" she mumbled. I glanced down at her.

"Yeah?"

"… thanks for the paints babe," she said with another yawn, "You were right, I did need this."

_Touchdown_. I was just relieved to know this had worked, at least a little. She fell quiet after that and I forced myself to remain still while she began to sleep. I looked up to the half-done mural – it looked like she'd been pretty pedantic with Lin and Eesh and Carlos, probably why she didn't get much else done…

I stared at the picture she'd done of Carlos and suddenly I felt pissed off. God dammit Carlos… _you couldn't have stayed alive longer for her_? Couldn't you see she was getting better? And now that was all shot to shit. I looked down at her – her eyes were closed, her brow smudged with a lick of grey paint and a thin piece of her hair was batted away every time she breathed out. I blinked and frowned…

Why _Carlos_? What was it about him that got through to her? I'd never seen her with a guy, I'd never seen her _want_ to be with a guy but for some reason _he_ was ok?

He'd kissed her… I looked at her and tried to picture it but the idea of someone kissing the Boss was fucking bizarre. The majority of the time I knew her I thought she was either gay or… pretty much asexual. It was useful actually, stopped me from ever looking at her in _that_ way, you know, she wasn't an actually woman, she was just one of the guys. But since Carlos…

I didn't want to think on it but couldn't stop myself.

Carlos pulling her clothes off. Her kissing him back, her undressing him and putting her hands on him – I felt my teeth grit and forced my eyes away to the brick floor in front of me and scowled to get the thoughts away.

…Had she told him her name?

Why was I getting angry about this? I shouldn't be getting pissed off, I should have been happy for her.

But dammit, why _Carlos_? The Boss was _way_ too much woman for him to handle I mean _Christ!_ If she was going to be with anyone it should have been-

... ...Shit.

_Shit._ I looked back at her, curled up and asleep on me and… oh dammit. _Don't_ go there Johnny; she doesn't need it, _you_ don't need it, not now; _don't_ do this to yourself…

She shifted next to me and made me suddenly aware of our… _cuddled_ up position, and the places were her cool skin was touching mine-

Once I thought it I couldn't un-think it. The epiphany had stuck.

_She should have been with me._

* * *

><p><strong>Fluff much?<strong>


	30. Breaking the Surface

**I've been really up in the air about posting this chapter. Part of me wanted to just lurch forward into the next mission, but I didn't really want to just throw this one away... so I'm sorry it say it's more drabble, and we'll have to wait till next chapter for the ass-kciking to start up again.**

* * *

><p>Since killing Jessica, I'd felt submerged. Nothing had really seemed real, like I was lying at the bottom of a pool and staring up at the world, rippled and distorted by the surface of the water. My body moved me through the paces of my life, sating my thirst for destruction and cruelty and killing till it had broken down and nearly betrayed me. But after painting, after finally <em>creating<em> something my face had broken the surface and I was starting to breathe again.

It was awful.

Instead of being blissfully numb and empty I was being followed by a dark cloud, and all the pain and anger and sadness was sitting somewhere around my heart… I figured a good cry would maybe help relieve me but nothing would come, no matter how hard I tried. I'd always tried to suppress a weakness like crying and had done a pretty good job at it, maybe too good. So I began hunting for relief anywhere else I could find it.

* * *

><p>I stumbled out onto the roof, sliding over a thin sheet of ice and watching my breath turn to fog before my mouth. I carefully put the bottle down on the concrete floor, zipped my jacket up tightly, pulling out a cigarette and sticking it swiftly between my lips. I didn't mind the cold; it was trying to bore through the layers of fabric that covered me and any that did get through was no real bother. I flicked the little flame of my lighter into existence, puffing away at the smoke gratefully; I hadn't had one in so long and yeah, I was technically trying to quit but hey, baby steps.<p>

The noise of the party thrummed up from beneath me. It was a hell of a night. Strippers, hookers, a hookah, plates of cocaine being passed around, kegs flowing and a DJ in the corner… Shaundi had gone all out for this one. But even after downing a full bottle of merlot I couldn't improve my mood, and decided to duck out before I started dragging anyone else down. It was Johnny's birthday, his night, and I wasn't going to go and spoil his time by being a miserable motherfucker. I took a few steps over towards the railing, glancing out at the city beyond.

I couldn't begin to tell you everything that ran through my head as I leant against the railing, staring out over the metropolis. The world, and time seemed to stretch out around me and I began to feel small. I stared out over my empire, glistening and glittering in the frozen night, the soft noise of the city and the party echoing up to me.

I jolted a little when I heard the door to the roof open and glanced over my shoulder at the sound of footsteps.

"Sorry, can I bum one'a those?" the guy said; the voice wasn't familiar. I narrowed my eyes through the darkness; he was dressed in plain jeans and a black leather jacket but no purple, he didn't look like a Saint.

"Hmn? Sure." I mumbled past my own smoke, pulling the pack from my pocket and tossing it to him.

"Thanks," He quickly drew one out, lighting it swiftly and tossed the packet back. I tried drunkenly to catch it and dropped the pack, carefully crouching to pick it up. My head swam and I decided to just kneel down on the ground for a while rather than attempting to get back up again. I took a long drink from the warm bottle (hot sake, good stuff on a cold night).

The footsteps came closer and the guy crouched down next to me, "Reckon I could bum some'a that too?" he asked with a grin. I raised an eyebrow and swayed.

"You're jus' a fuckin bum all over, huh?" I said dryly, handing him the bottle, "Go for it."

He took a deep swig and cringed, then nodded, passing it back to me, "… Didn' think 'nyone else'd be up here," he said, his own words slurring a little, "You uh, reckon we'll be getting snow soon?"

My shoulders shrugged with a silent laugh, "You're talking to me about the weather?"

He chuckled, settling himself a little more, "Sorry, I guess I am. The name's Ezio," he said, holding out his hand. I passed him the bottle before I realised he'd actually meant to shake my hand.

"… You're not a Saint." I said.

"Whoa, uh, no miss, I'm not," he said, quickly holding up his hands, "I know Shaundi from college; s'never a secret when _that_ girl throws a party."

"Oh. One of her exes huh?" I said, snatching the bottle back and taking a deep swig. It was only warm now but I could have been drinking turps by that point and not noticed.

"Tried to be," he joked, then cleared his throat, "Nah, I'm one'a her ex's buddies. How d'you know Shaundi?"

I swayed a little, considering what to say, "… we work together."

Ezio shifted, "Oh… so, you're in the gang or something?"

"Or something." I said coolly, cocking an eyebrow briefly. I took a quick drag from my smoke that had been quietly burning itself away. Ezio was snorting laughter next to me.

"Ha-ha… you like pulling the whole enig-amatic thing, huh?" he said, swaying and drawing sharply on his cigarette. I blinked and frowned at what he was saying.

"Enig- I think you mean _enigmatic_."

"Whatt'd I say?"

"Eniga… eni…?"

Ezio took the bottle from me, "I… I don't think I've had enough of this stuff." He took a deep swig, coughed and looked to the bottle, "Christ what is it?"

I took it back from him and drew another deep swig, "Sake. Rice wine. Nice'n hot."

Ezio nodded, leaning back a little and drawing a long drag from his smoke. I was a little aware of him watching me.

"So. What's a gorgeous girl like you doin' up here all by herself?" he asked with a cocky grin. I looked up at him flatly; I didn't like flirting and flattery.

"I guess I came up here t'wallow in my self defeat." I said, taking a swing from the bottle. It was starting to empty, what a pain…

"Somethin' bugging you, huh?" Ezio said frowning and swaying a little. I dropped my head, the alcohol hot in my blood.

"You know that saying, it's only after you've lost everything that you're free to do anything?" I said, looking up to the stranger, who had started to frown.

"Actually I heard that a lot," he said with a solemn nod, "The whole, bigger they are, harder they fall thing."

I frowned thoughtfully at the sidewalk, "I dunno, something like that."

"Hey… you, you should _talk_ about it," he said, quickly putting his hand on my back and swaying slightly, rubbing my shoulders, "I'm a _real_ good listener honey," he said. Oh, he's sweet… I stubbed out the last of my cigarette and tried to resist the urge to light another one up. The pain in my chest whirled with the grog and I couldn't tell if it was making it worse or better. I glanced towards the guy, Ezio or whatever his name was.

"… Lost a friend recently." I mumbled, good a start as any, "It's just… got me thinking about a heap of stuff I mean, you ever… you ever think about everything you've achieved," I said, sitting up straighter, my hands beginning to weave with emphasis, "everything you're fighting for and then get that realisation that at the end of the day, it's really not going to matter? I'm just going to end up six feet under anyway… every second that passes is a second I can't get back and another second closer to the day I die." I said, for a moment forgetting where I was. The cold concrete I was staring at tilted and I shivered, quickly taking a deep drink of sake.

"Hey, that could be sixty years away yet." Ezio offered, scooting a little closer to me. I rolled my eyes.

"In my line of work?" I said, looking to him, "Not likely."

I stood up and stretched, then stumbled, the world trying to invert around me. Man… I was pretty well gone by now…

"Hey, y'know what _I _think?" he said, and I looked down at him and tried to focus my eyes on his face. "_No_ one's got nothing to loose or gain. We're the same decaying matter as everything else on this planet, all in the same compost heap."

I snorted and rolled my eyes, "Well, thankyou Tyler Durdin." I shot back with a sly look, carefully bending down to pick up the bottle that sat on the concrete, picking it up for another swig. I couldn't seem to stop myself... Ezio shrugged his shoulders with a laugh.

"Ah, caught me out there, huh? I could quote somethin' a lil more sophisticated if y'like." He offered, "S'all I got, never had n'original thought in my head."

I snorted and shook my head, looking out to the city skyline again. Behind me I heard Ezio get to his feet, stumble towards me. He then nudged me and leant in, his arm waving to the skyline beyond, "Life's but a walking shadow." He said whimsically, and I swayed, looking towards him with a frown. Sounded familiar.

"What?"

He smiled broadly at me, "A tale told by annidiot, full'a sound and fury, signifying _nothing_." He finished. I narrowed my eyes, trying to work out where that was from.

"… Hamlet?" I asked. He winked at me.

"Close. Macbeth." He said, taking the bottle of sake and draining a little more, "Single most depressing thing I ever heard."

I tilted my head, pondering the implications for a while and felt a drunken smile, "Oh really? Cos I think it's… it's liberating-" I said, walking closer to the corner of the railing. I gripped the freezing metal tightly then turned around, jumping up to sit on the railing and hooking my feet around the bars. Ezio blinked and took a few drunken steps towards me.

"What? Hey, get down, from there-" he said but I couldn't really care what he was saying.

"Think about it." I said, a cold gust of wind rocketing up the side of the building, chilling my back and whipping my hair, "Whatever happens, the little consequences in life won't matter because it's all going to amount to the same thing." I hooked my feet tighter to secure me and leant backwards a little, the adrenaline sending a shiver up my spine, "And I could die-"

"Careful-"

"-And what would it matter?" I said, leaning back up, "I'd be too dead to care-"

"Shit, _careful-_" Ezio said, racing up towards me and I felt myself unbalancing unexpectedly at another gust of wind and suddenly a hand grabbed the front of my jacket, yanking me forward and away from danger. I yelped and we both fall down onto the concrete roof. I landed heavily on top of him and blinked, another cold shiver racing up my spine.

"Whoah!" The guy was saying with a nervous laugh, and I was vaguely aware of his hands on my hips. I gave a short surprised laugh.

"Shit!" I said, mind swimming with vertigo, "Ha-ha, I think I just had a near-life experience!" I gave a quick sigh and rested down onto the warm body beneath me. Ezio was grinning at me nervously.

"You're either crazy or drunk," he said, and those hands that had been on my hips moved around to my back. I was too drunk to care or really notice at that point.

"Both, honey, both," I said, resting my chin on his chest, my mind swimming. He gave me a shady smile.

"… You know why you keep going anyway?" he offered I blinked and tilted my head, and he continued in a tone I would later identify as sleazy, "Cos there's too much fun to have in between," he purred, one hand coming up to pinch my chin. I blinked, the gesture suddenly familiar – in the darkness of the night his Italian skin looked the same soft coffee colour and… if his dark chocolate eyes were a little larger… his fingers ran along my jaw and I raised an eyebrow at him.

"If I kissed you, I'd have to kill you." I warned darkly. It had meant to be a joke but I couldn't laugh, "That's how it goes."

"What, a black widow then?" he asked with a grin, propping himself up a little more and shifting beneath me. I narrowed my eyes. Same skin, similar eyes… maybe if his hair curled a little more…

"Of sorts."

I paused for the briefest moment, then leant forward and pressed my mouth onto his, his skin cold and tongue warm. I breathed in, hoping to smell spice and coffee but all I could smell was cigarette smoke. He moved his arm back around my waist and I crushed my eyes closed further, deepening the kiss, my gloved palms flat against his quilted jacket. At that moment, I could have kissed every man on the planet. He grinned into my mouth and pushed hard, rolling so I was beneath him and a suddenly cold flood of panic ran through my body. I snarled and pushed him back, pinning him down angrily. He chuckled.

"Alright then, babe, I'm easy,"

I kissed him again, harder this time, more cruelly, and he met me equally. I don't know how long we lay there on the freezing roof, sharing body heat, but eventually I pulled back, sitting up and straddled over his hips, breathing heavily and trying to think of what I was doing. I didn't even know this guy… unsteadily, I stood.

"We going inside?" he said with a grin, propping himself up onto his elbows. I considered it a moment, I really did. I wanted to and I was certainly drunk enough at the moment to forget this guy was a stranger.

But I shook my head, no, and bit my lip.

"Thanks for the company," I said, stepping over him and making it to the door. He sat up and looked over his shoulder to me, pure disappointment and I think a touch of anger in his eyes, "But I'm good for now."

* * *

><p>I stumbled back into the party, the noise of it smacking me hard in the face. I cringed and shivered, still cold from outside and unwillingly shrugged my coat from my shoulders, waiting to be warmed up by the thick, hot atmosphere. I tried to spy my lieutenants through the crowd but all I could see with a whirl of purple coloured people. I squinted my eyes and wove my way towards the kitchen, shivering, and hunting for some more wine or sake. I nabbed a bottle of red and screwed off the cap, taking a swig right from the bottle, actually swishing the liquid in my mouth a moment to get the taste out before swallowing.<p>

"Now _that's_ classy," a familiar voice said. I coughed a little and leant on the bar, trying to smile up at Gat as he reached over and took the bottle from me, taking a deep swig, then passing it over to Shaundi who clambered up onto the bar next to him, a swipe of soft white powder still visible under her nose.

"You been havin' fun?" I asked hopefully, for some reason feeling a little nervous, recalling what happened on the roof. Johnny nodded, leant against the bar a little more and slipped and I felt a flash of a real smile.

Shaundi spoke up first, "Oh yeah, out-did myself this time," she said, scruffing a hand over Johnny's hair.

"You don'say," Johnny slurred to her, then looked back at me, "People keep bringin' me shots and lap dances," he said, swaying a little and I slapped a hand on his shoulder, "Think I'm about to havah stroke,"

I snorted a short laugh but my mirth was wholly short lived. Johnny leant against me, nudging me softly.

"Whatsit? You kay?" he slurred, frowning gently. I blinked and forced a smile, thinking of something to say.

"Yeah, just cold, 'scold outside," I offered and Johnny gave a long, slow nod, glanced to Shaundi who cocked a cheeky eyebrow, then grinned darkly back at me.

"Ah. S'kay, I'll help." He said, and I blinked. Suddenly he grabbed my wrist, wrapping my arm over the back of his neck and hoisted me up over his shoulder – I yelped and my head swam at the sudden movement and we veered dangerously as he started walking.

"Johnny!" I yelped as he stumbled us towards the stairs. I looked out at the party and saw Shaundi following us, two bottles of mysterious liquid in her hands and a grin from ear to ear. I squeaked when he started jolting up the staircase, "Where we goin?" I worried, trying to turn to look at him but my drunken body was refusing to comply.

"Get you warmed up," he said with a laugh, stumbled a little on the stairs and we lurched forward. I looked about once we were on the landing, the main bedroom area. I frowned; there were people congregated on a sofa passing a joint, and over on my bed some strangers were making out (and by some, I mean more than two). I hoisted myself up to look forward over his shoulder and saw were we were headed.

"Wha? Oh! Gat NO!" I yelped, writhing, and he just started chuckling darkly, "_Bad Johnny!_" I tired again but to no avail. We finally stopped, but only a moment before he lurched me forward off his shoulder and I fell down, feet over head splashing into the huge hot tub that dominated the corner of the loft master bedroom.

I coughed a bubble up and it took a moment before I realised I was underwater, the lights of the tub bright and brilliant. A hand grabbed my by the jacket and drew me up, I flailed as I broke the surface of the water, drawing a sharp breath and hearing laughs and cheers of a few people around me who were already in the huge tub. I looked to see who'd pulled me to the surface and it was Pierce's laughing face that greeted me. Well. At least I'd managed to find all my lieutenants, and I was certainly warmer now.

There was another slosh of water as Johnny tumbled in after me and fully clothed, just like I was, breaking the surface and laughing and Shaundi leapt in after us with a squeal and a laugh. I shoved them both.

"You in _big_ trouble," I warned to Johnny, but he just threw an arm over my shoulder. I grunted and pulled off my jacket, now ruined and weighing me down, and with a heavy sigh relaxed back into the water, quickly grabbing my phone from my pocket, pulling it out and groaning at it.

"Y'needed a new one anyway," Johnny teased and I shoved him again, unable to help but smile.

* * *

><p><strong>Hrm.<strong>


	31. B: Pirates of Stilwater

**Urgh. Writing parts of this chapter was like doing my math homework. Then turning up to school without it. Naked. On the plus side, I threw in a little Gat fanservice near the end, just a touch.**

**Thankyou again everyone for all the reviews - 92 so far, to think I might break the hundred mark! So loved... ;)**

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><p>"I'm letting you know now, this mission is voluntary." I said, looking about at the assembled faces before me. I usually didn't give anyone the option when they were rolling with me but this was different, it was far more dangerous than usual and it wasn't just the Brotherhood we were taking on. Or maybe it just felt more dangerous to me because the damn shipment <em>had<em> to be coming in by boat, but I wouldn't be sending anyone to do a job I wouldn't do myself. Beside me Gat was silent and far more collected than I was feeling, casually plucking the olives and anchovies from his pizza and dropping them in front of me, then taking my abandoned pizza crusts and chewing on them. Pierce called it disgusting, we called it teamwork.

"Shaundi gave me the 411, Maero's shipment is coming in on a small cargo ship that should be by now just off the coast. Now something's gone down with it, Maero's worried and Shaundi's contact at the docks has tipped us off that the shipment had _already_ been hijacked. So, of course, we're just gonna go steal it again."

There was a small chuckle that went up around the table.

"But you can understand why I ain't gonna force anyone into this. We'll be out on a ship in the middle of nowhere, if we need backup it'll be a long time before it comes," I warned them seriously, "No quick escapes either and we're still not totally sure what we're up against or what to expect when we get there. Still, I'm pretty sure you all know the reason why I called _you_ first."

Tasha, Reece, Jack and Manny were quietly nodding consent back at me. Carlos' old crew, they'd been pretty well rudderless for a while. Seeing as Tasha had originally been recruited by Pierce they'd tended to latch themselves to him first, but would answer the call from any one of the Lieutenants, and would drop _everything_ for me.

"I'm in." Reece had said quickly, his voice deathly serious. Reece was a suitably intimidating guy, built like a werewolf and had a hide tougher than leather. He had short blonde hair and bright blue eyes, and dressed in plain jeans with a studded leather biker jacket over his purple button up shirt. From what I could tell, he'd been one of Carlos' best friends. He was also the only one from the group who had wanted to attach to Shaundi's crew (for obvious reasons, he practically salivated whenever she walked into the room).

I gave Reece a curt nod and turned my gaze to the others.

"Me too," Tasha said swiftly, glancing next to her to Jack and Manny who had hesitated only for a moment before nodding.

Tasha was a tough chick and I'd been pretty impressed with what she'd managed at On Track they day Veteran Child had abducted Shaundi. She'd had a wild mane of black curls before but since then had wrestled them into corn rows for functionality. Couple that with dark brown eyes, skin the colour of dark chocolate and a frame that stood at an annoying 5'8. How often I wished I was taller I have no idea… she was dressed for practicality today, what looked like well-worn jeans, a long sleeve white shirt with a cropped purple jacket over the top that showed the two gun holsters that were strapped against her ribs. I'd met her properly for the first time at the wake and found out she was dating Manny's sister, Maria, Carlos' cousin. She mapped the family that day; apparently Carlos' father was the eldest of four and his mother the middle of three, and consequently he had cousins coming out of the walls.

He also had a nephew, Diego. He'd never told me… and I'd remembered with shame that I had never bothered to ask him about his family. Diego lived with his mom in a townhouse in the apartments district and they were looked after by everyone in the family since his father was dead, but Carlos had been giving them almost half of what he earned.

"We're in," Manny and Jack said, snapping me from my riviere. Jack wasn't too remarkable, a mop of dark brown hair and a tendency to freckle. His voice had a soft lilt that hinted at an Irish background. Manuel, or Manny as he preferred, had apparently been Carlos' right hand man but since Carlos had… well. Manny had sort of faded into the background of the crew a bit. Even now he was subdued, a heavy air around him. I spared him a short glance; there was a strong family resemblance. Manny was a touch taller than Carlos but not nearly as good looking. Enough for it to be painful to look at him though.

"Right." I said, "The good news now; the cargo that ship is carrying is a fuckload of weapons, so once we actually get on board we should have no issue finding stuff to defend the boat with. So it'll be getting there that's the issue. Tobias will be dropping us off by chopper but we're not having him stick around."

"So when are we doing this Boss?" Reece piped up.

Next to me Gat stood and I followed suit, raising an eyebrow at the crew.

"Before Maero has a chance to. So now, as it were." I said, and they all blinked in surprise and got to their feet.

* * *

><p>"<em>Alright Boss, we're closing in,<em>" Tobias' lazy voice crackled over the speaker. I clambered up and glanced out the window. In the distance I could see the large red ship, its surface dotted with the small cream coloured guards I recognised as Ultor security. I was also completely unsurprised by the fact they were the ones who'd usurped the shipment in the first place. I scowled, grabbing my TK and slinging it over my shoulder, checking and re-checking my weapons. Pistol with three extra clips, two knives holstered in my boots, two more SMG clips on my belt. I spared a glance to the crew who'd been quietly chatting and now were falling silent; Gat was checking over his shotgun, but he kept glancing over to me and smirking. Finally I tired of it.

"_What_?" I asked with a little exacerbation. Johnny just shrugged, his smile broadening.

"I gotta ask Boss, are you dressed like that on purpose?" he asked, indicating to my outfit and I blinked.

"_No_ Gat, I fell down the stairs, landed in a pile of clothes then walked out wearing this." I shot back dryly, hands on my hips. He chuckled next to me and shook his head.

I personally thought I was dressed for functionality and warmth – I had a short sleeve lilac blouse on and a leather bustier over the top for extra armour. On the bottom I had my regular black jeans tucked into knee high, buckled, flat-heel boots; durable, lightweight, waterproof. The three-quarter coat that swished around my knees was only for warmth.

"Just sayin'," Gat said with a dry smile, "All you need is the hat and eye patch."

I rolled my eyes, going to the side door and sliding it open, the roar of the wind and engine erupting into the hold. I saw the crew hunch their jackets up a little tighter and I glared out into the skies, a dark grey despite it being the middle of the day. Tobias got closer, and I could hear signals coming over the radio, demanding we identify ourselves. _Hah, sorry boys_… as we got lower towards the stern I signalled to the crew who readied themselves; we wouldn't be touching down, just making a short ten-foot drop so Tobias could get the chopper up and have Jack do some long-range sniping.

Below I could see guards congregating and pointing up at us, some drawing their guns. I glanced to Johnny and we shared a short grin, and a nod.

And we jumped down; I landed cat like, quickly drawing my guns and opening fire as the guards did, and Johnny was next to me, letting off rounds. Three more thuds were behind me as Tasha, Reece and Manny jumped down, taking cover and giving us cover fire. I glanced up at over shoulder; hair blasted back from my face by the chopper as it lifted away. Jack threw me a quick salute and armed his rifle, carefully plucking off the few guards further along the ship and we began to move along. There weren't too many guards and for Ultor attack dogs they didn't put up much of a fight; the ship's crew were terrified, naturally, and were taking cover. I wasn't worried; my crew knew not to hurt them (what, you think _I _was going to get this ship into port?) so long as they didn't get in the way. We just swept across the ship, taking out guards till we'd eliminated all resistance and were able to regroup. I gave the signal to Tobias, giving him the all-clear and he turned the chopper around, taking it out of there. We'd have to stay with the ship till it docked.

"Okay. Manny, Reece, start getting these bodies overboard." I said as the crew gathered back around me. They dutifully nodded, turning and quickly carrying out orders. "Gat, track down the Captain, let him know where he's gonna port and see if you can get the ship manifest. You know what to do." I said and he gave me an easy smile.

"Aye-aye Boss," he said, threading past me towards the bow and I smiled and shook my head. Tasha blinked at me. "You're gonna help me. We're gonna go find those guns." I told her, and she nodded sharply, following me as I started back towards the stern where I'd seen a door I guessed led to the bowels of the ship and hopefully the storage area.

* * *

><p>It took some hunting, but soon we walked into a large room, the walls lines with endless crates. I hunted for a crowbar, cracked one open, frowning and seeing what looked like car parts. Eh, still useful I suppose.<p>

"Boss!" Tasha called out and I glanced over to her; she'd located some large green crates and I started over, kneeling down next to her and using the crowbar to open up the crate. I grinned at what I saw.

"Whoa-_ho_! Jackpot!" Tasha said with a laugh, pulling out the rifle and admiring it.

"Go find a crowbar and get star checking the rest of these crates," I said, taking my own and feeling a smile, "See what you can get for the boys, chances are Maero is going to be our welcoming party when we get to the docks."

"Yes Boss," Tasha said through her grin, and we got to work. I cracked open another case and gasped, nearly salivating.

"Oh, oh _god yes!_" I said, eyes sparkling.

"Find something good?" Tasha called over at me but I just grinned, reverently picking the gun up out of its casing, cradling it gently.

"Brand new duel-system grenade-launcher assault rifle," I cooed breathlessly as Tasha approached behind me, "I thought these were an urban gun-myth! Fires nine rounds per second, has one of the largest holding clips of any assault rifle, full armour penetration _and_ it has an additional attachment that can shoot grenades over sixty yards!"

I looked back to the case, running my hands over the clips and small grenades that filled the rest of the crate.

"…Boss?" Tasha voiced,

"Yeah?"

"Your phone's ringing."

"Huh? Oh," I blinked and glanced down, grumpily shaken from my dreamlike state as I drew my phone from my pocket, not having recognised the ring tone. I shrugged to Tasha.

"New phone," I said, carefully pressing the touch screen (I liked my old flip phone, these new ones with the touch screens and stuff looked way to breakable…)

"What?" I said coolly down the line. It was Shaundi's voice that greeted me.

"_Hey Boss - The coast guard just reported a massive crew of Brotherhood heading your way."_

"You s-"

The ship rocked hard with a sudden explosion from above and Tasha and I were thrown to the ground. I heard a creaking and looked up, scrambling out of the way as a huge crate tipped forward from the shelf, creaking forward then crashing down. The wood splintered and the contents of the crate spilled out onto the concrete floor. A familiar shaped tube and casings… an RPG launcher. And I grinned when I saw several identical crates still up on the shelf. Beside me I could hear the phone still buzzing with Shaundi's voice and I gingerly picked it up, the screen already cracked.

"_Boss! You there?"_ She was calling down the phone.

"… Yeah." I replied, getting to my feet, " and suddenly I'm not so worried about the Brotherhood."

I clicked the phone off and looked to Tasha – I didn't need to say anything, she just nodded, and we loaded ourselves with as much as we could, quick as we could, and raced our way out of the cargo hold, back into the cold air now filled with the sound of helicopters and the roar of boat engines. Reece and Manny were already to the side of the ship, firing at the incoming boats and choppers but I called them over;

"Take these; there's more inside," I said, and they nodded, quickly running past me to get to the hold and further arm themselves. I looked back out to the ocean and swore; I hadn't thought Maero would send so many. Down the far end of the ship by the bow I spotted Gat out on a balcony of the boat, firing into the crowd that was starting to swarm the ship.

They were already unloading Brotherhood grunts, the choppers flying in close and dropping them on the stern; I raced up the steps onto the elevated stern, gritting my teeth and firing at them, the new rifle rattling beautifully and tearing them to shreds, their bodies hitting the ground. I narrowed my eyes and swung my attention back to the ocean, scowling when I saw more choppers and boats closing in.

I slung the weapon over my shoulder and clambered up onto the railing, hooking an arm around a radio mast and narrowed my eyes out at the water. Spying a Brotherhood boat approaching and I carefully took aim, narrowed my eyes, and tugged the trigger sharply. The gun made a beautiful deep _bang_ and the small bomb sailed out gracefully through the air, slamming into one of the red speedboats and erupting on impact, the boat engulfed in flames and the shockwave sending bodies flying into the water. I grinned, turning my aim to the choppers that were circling the ship at a distance, waiting for us to be taken out and carry away the survivors. I rained bullets on them, one starting to smoke and I could hear the distant wail of an alarm in it as it began to descend to the water, crashing down and beginning to sink, the people inside flailing on the surface.

There were shouts from on the deck as more Brotherhood were running up the side stairs that ran along the hull; down the far end of the boat I could see Gat firing into the crowd, clambering over the side of the railing and dropping down onto the deck, charging towards them. I narrowed my eyes and began plucking off the invaders that were swarming my crew; Manny and Reece were battling back to back, Tasha was grappling with two of the Brothers and Gat was ripping them apart anyone stupid enough to get in his way, then going to the edge and firing a speedboat that had swung around the far side. He was suddenly grabbed from behind; I swung my aim and tried to focus but they were moving too much for me to get a clear shot. Gat rammed the back of his head into the guy's face and they stumbled backwards, twisting – I could see them falling towards the railing and knew what would happen before it did.

"_Gat!_" I shouted, just as the two of them yelled and toppled over the side of the ship, a loud crack soon following as they hit the water.

I gritted my teeth, looking around and spying a suspension cable above my head that stretched across and down to the levels below. My lips twisted with determination and I slung the gun over the top of the cable, gripping either end, and jumped. My stomach raced up into my throat as I flew down the line, scowling and drawing back my feet as I neared the ground and slammed a double kick into the head of some Brotherhood banger, unhooking the gun and using him to break my fall. I didn't hesitate, I was already racing towards the side of the ship where I'd seen him go over and sighing with relief when I heard him.

"_FUCK!_" he was shouting, splashing as he tried to get to the metal landing dock that sat at the bottom of the stairs running down the side of the ship. "_Shit it's fucking freezing!_"

I raced to the stairs and practically threw myself down them to the bottom, just as Gat started to pull himself out of the icy water.

"_F-f-fuck_." He said bitterly and I cringed, gripping his jacket and hauling him up while rubbing his back in a futile attempt to warm him up. He looked up at me then blinked at something past me, grabbing the pistol from my thigh holster and quickly letting off a few rounds. I looked over my shoulder in time to see a red and black clad body fall from the side of the ship and crack down into the water. I helped Johnny to his feet.

"Keep moving, it'll help warm you up," I said swiftly and he nodded, trying to jog up the stairs. I ran up with him, racing back out into the fray. Their numbers were thinning and I looked up to the choppers, seeing one turning and starting back for shore.

"Manny!" I shouted over to him, and he looked to where I was pointing, nodded, and hoisted the RPG launcher he'd been using to crack skulls with back onto his shoulder, carefully taking aim, and firing.

We couldn't have those choppers going back and getting reinforcements. Behind me Gat was still fighting and I could hear him shouting at our enemies.

"M-m-muth-tha f-f-fuckkers!" he snarled, trembling and his skin icy white. The backup had stopped coming, and as the last of the Brotherhood saw the corpses of their fallen friends, some began trying to run for the stairs to get back to their waiting boats.

I clicked the rifle into its secondary mode again, and the gun gave another deep _boom_ as it sent a grenade sailing to the other side of the ship where the last few Brotherhood were fighting with each other to get away. It erupted, the explosion rocking the boat and sending them flying. The noise of the explosion vanished out over the sea, and soon the ship had settled into quiet, save for the wind, the lapping of the waves and a few distant groans from people who may have survived. I looked around the deck for the rest of my crew, Johnny shivering and bouncing on the his toes next to me as he tried to warm up. Manny was holding his shoulder and groaning, but there was a relieved grin across his face when he looked to me. I could see Reece kneeling down by Tasha, who was biting the back of her knuckles as he pressed a bandana down hard onto her leg, a line of blood seeping from beneath it. I cringed and started over.

"Gat, get onto Tobias," I said as I tossed him my phone and he clumsily managed to catch it, nodding and dialling with frozen fingers, "Manny! C'mere and help us with Tasha,"

I knelt down beside her and felt a wave of worry when I saw there was a dark red patch of blood over her abdomen; he was trembling, her teeth gritted in a snarl.

"I'm good Boss," he assured me, and I nodded, a hand on her shoulder.

"Toby's on his way, we're gonna get you out here soon," I said and she nodded quickly, "Reece, give her your jacket before she goes into shock."

Reece nodded and began yanking his jacket off just as Manny arrived, sporting a black eye and bleeding lip. He crouched down by Tasha and took her hand; in the distance I could hear the soft _whumpwhumpwhump_ of the chopper propellers.

"T-Toby's on – on his w-w-ay," Gat's shuddering voice said from behind me and I looked up with a little exacerbation; he wrapped his own arms around his torso tighter as a freezing wind whipped by, the kind that was threatening snow in the next two days. I looked briefly to Reece and Manny.

"Mover her up onto the stern, it's got the most room for Tobias to touch down, we need her moved outta here fast," I turned my attention back to Gat, "_You_ come with me."

I quickly took Gat by the hand and yanked him away, heading to the doors that lead to the cargo hold and ducking just inside out of the icy wind. I pushed him ahead of me.

"Get your jacket off," I said swiftly and he blinked at me.

"W-wha? I's-s c-cold-"

I growled and turned on him, quickly yanked it off myself, "Yes. And I'm gonna get you warm," I replied, then grabbed the fabric of his shirt and tried to pull it up.

"Wha? Whoa Boss I- uh, ok-" he said shortly as I managed to wrestle it free, pulling the fabric sharply over his head and dropping my own coat from my shoulders, turning it sidewards. It was by no means big enough to fit him, but there should be enough fabric there to wrap around as a makeshift blanket.

"Get this over your shoulders," I said and he swiftly nodded, shivering and wrapping it tightly over himself. My hands then went to my own bustier and nimbly unclipped the front as I spoke, Gat watching wide-eyed as I did.

"Uh, Boss…?"

"Needed to get you _out_ of the wet clothes, you'd never warm up otherwise. Everyone knows that," I scolded, dropping the corset to the ground and I quickly flicked the buttons of my blouse undone.

I heard Johnny make what might have been a weak protest but I ignored it and stepped swiftly up to him, ducking under his arms and cringing as I pressed my torso flush against his, my own hot skin suddenly burning with cold. It was like hugging a marble statue that had been left out in the snow and I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to move arms around him and rub some heat into his back, my skin soon slick with the cold salt water that still clung to him. I felt him shudder with relief and his grip suddenly tightened on me, his body sucking the heat from my blood. I didn't mind, we'd both be alright soon enough. His face was buried into the crook of my neck and his shivers began subsiding.

"We can get a fire going, should be right till we get to the docks," I told him and he nodded.

"Th-thanks," he said, giving one more shuddering breath, the shivers slowly beginning to disappear. Eventually the cold in my own skin began to ebb and I relaxed a bit. We were quiet for a while, standing still for a few minutes and letting his body re-heat. After some time I ran through the event in my mind, then had to chuckle.

"What?" Gat grumbled and I just grinned.

"I _just_ realised how it must've looked to you." I said with a light laugh and feeling a little embarrassed. He leaned back and blinked at me, raising an eyebrow and I continued.

"Y'know, I drag you inside, tell you I'm gonna _warm you up_ then start ripping of your clothes," I said and snorted a laugh on the last few words, shaking my head. Gat gave an awkward laugh.

"Uh, yeah. Kinda took me by surprise there," He said and glanced away. After a moment he grinned, "Wasn't that convincing, you're not much of a seductress," he teased and I shoved him a little, wriggling out of his grip and quickly doing up the buttons on my shirt.

"Smartass. Stay inside out of the wind, I'll find you something to wear." I said, quickly nabbing my corset and wrapping it back around my middle to steel against the cold.

* * *

><p>It was night time when we finally made it back to the hideout and took a convoy to get the weapons there. Johnny was looking a little happier now, his only complaint was about being dressed in the heavy red and black clothes of a newly deceased Brotherhood banger, which I was only too happy to tease him about.<p>

Once things were beginning to settled back at the hideout, I walked across to stand in front of the broken stone angel at the centre of the stairs, which had recently been revitalised; the white marble in the hideout was now fresh and polished, accented by new carpets. The whole place was mid-way through a final face-lift, getting professionally decorated by another one of Shaundi's random 'friends'. Below, I watched the crew sorting through the crates and crates of guns and ammo, pleased murmurs rising from every one of them.

"I'm glad you all like the new hardware the Brotherhood decided to hook us up with." I announced, and they turned their attention back to me, chuckling. A dark smile crept over my mouth; it was time now. Time to take Maero apart, time to cripple him and make him _pay_ for what he did… Carlos' broken body flashed before my eyes and my hand twitched as I heard the gunshot again in my head.

The crew watched me expectantly.

"You know up till this point, we've been toying with Maero," I announced, "Kill his bitch here, steal his money there... but I'm _through_ playing. We know where he lives, we have his guns, and I say it's time we take that motherfucker out, whaddyou think?"

The cheers that erupted from my bloodthirsty Saints rallied me, and I could taste Maero's blood in my mouth.

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><p><strong>The only think that inspired me to do that to Johnny was because it actually happened in the game; I had him come along as a homie and some Brotherhood jerk threw a pipe bomb at him, sent him sailing over the edge and I had to dive in after and save his ass. Then I remembered this part of the story is set near the end of november and... yeah. managed to get some of his kit off at least ;)<strong>

**Good news is the next chapter is just about done and I really like it. A few more tweaks and you'll see it up, possibly in 24 hours or less :D**


	32. B: What's in a Name?

**I couldn't wait to get this chapter up. Unfortunately, I haven't even _started_ writing the next one, but two chapters in two days isn't so bad, methinks.**

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><p>People parted like the red sea as I stepped out of the elevator and into the hideout – there were blatant stares as I walked by and I held my head high, despite my neck and throat aching from where Maero had gripped me and held me aloft. I looked to a Saint who was looking back at me a little pale and he dutifully stepped forward.<p>

"Uhh, Boss, you need me to get the kits?" he asked and I wave a hand nonchalantly – I wasn't too bad, I could get patched in no time.

"Are the others back yet?" I asked with a sore voice and he quickly nodded.

"Yeah Boss, they're waiting in your office." He said, stepping back as I brushed past him and made my way over. Taking the docks, hitting the Brotherhood in their hideout had been a huge battle, and we'd been able to easily overwhelm them with sheer numbers and raw fire power. I had taken out a few of his lieutenants but in truth, I'd only had Maero in mind, and I knew he would be waiting for me. I knew because I'd received a single text from him. A single text, with a single word. _Rooftop_.

I glanced down over the balcony to the foyer below, groups of Saints quietly celebrating their victory and tending wounds. I frowned; there was a small group in the corner who were subdued, heads bowed. I felt a soft sorry sigh escaped me as I stepped into the office, chin lifting when I saw Pierce binding up a cut on Shaundi's arm while she cringed and drew hard on a joint, and Gat leaning against the desk, his buttoned shirt off, crumpled on the desk next to him and a few bandages over his skin from small nicks and cuts. Their heads snapped up when I stepped into the room. Shaundi gasped, Pierce blinked and his eyes widened, and Gat stood abruptly, jaw dropped as he started walking towards me.

"_Shit_ Boss, what happened?" he asked. I sighed – no need for everyone to get so sensitive over a black eye, surely?

"Maero." I said, walking past him to sit down on the sofa and wincing a little. Now the adrenaline was wearing off I could feel my injuries more acutely.

"Maero?" Shaundi piped up, "Is he…?"

"No," I said with a sigh and a scowl, "He got away. What've you got to report?"

There was a tense quiet and Pierce finally answered me, "The warehouse and docks are taken, some'a the boys are already setting up shop there. The Brotherhood are totally cleared out," he said, waving a hand flatly through the air for emphasis, "either dead or hiding. I don't think they gonna be able to recover from this one." Pierce finished and I nodded, feeling much more satisfied. Maero might still be alive, but there was no way he could hit back when I could count his crew on one hand. Shaundi jolted excitedly.

"So, what happened with Maero?" she stressed. I cringed a little but she persisted, "C'mon Boss, I want all the gory details!"

Speaking was hurting my throat a little but I continued anyway, regaling the story of our fight to my wide-eyes lieutenants. I wasn't too proud, it wasn't my most glorious of brawls but at least it was entertaining.

"I finally found him on the roof," I started, "He'd been waiting for me, and had a _mini-gun_ of all things – it's in the back of my car now. I just ducked behind the exhausts, tried to get off a few shots at him, managed to hit him once or twice but you know that guy, built like a fuckin' tank. The gun jammed, Maero's gun that is, and I thought I had the drop on him, about to take him out then he _throws_ the fuckin thing at me. Next thing I know he's charging at me, smacked the gun from my hands, picks me up by the throat."

I rubbed a hand over the back of my neck at the memory, blinking. My lieutenants were silent around me. Shaundi and Pierce listened closely, eyes shining with admiration and jaws dropped with worry, but as my story progressed I noticed Gat easing back, his jaw clenched and brow knitted.

"He got a few good punches into my stomach when he was holding me up, then…" I squinted, trying to remember what happened next, "He slammed me down onto the edge of the roof, smacks me a few times and… I dunno, it must've caved or given way cos we just sort of kept falling, bam, bam, bam, level after level, we were hitting things on the way down, slowed us, y'know. I landed on him, broke my fall a bit but… fuck, bit sore."

I gave a dry laugh which caused a sharp pain in my side. I heard a familiar snap as Gat cracked his knuckles.

"Anyway, I could actually see my gun a little way off, I tried crawling to it but Maero grabbed me from behind, and he was saying-" I stopped abruptly when I remembered his words… _Your boyfriend screamed like a bitch when we trussed him up. What about you, bitch? You gonna scream?_ I had thought I was going to die then… his arm was so tight over my throat and was suffocating me, and I could remember there being stars in my eyes and my whole body was in agony from the fall… I didn't tell them this though.

"… I uh, can't really remember. He had a knife, and he tried to-" I made the stabbing motion against my own neck then waved my hand nonchalantly, "But I managed to butt my head back into his nose pretty well and he let me go, dropped the knife. Smacked me again though so I kicked that fucker in the knee and he went down like a ton'a bricks." I said with a dark, satisfied smile, "Saw the knife and grabbed it, turned around and… well, I was aiming for his neck but he shifted and wound up getting him here," I said, indicating to the small hollow above my own collarbone. I thought back to it, the beautiful scream he gave as I twisted the blade again and again, how I had stared into his black eyes and drank it in… "Was about to stab him in the eye, I was so damn close to finishing it but… that asshole Matt was there, tackled me off and… Maero got away." I finished with a sigh, before quickly tacking on, "Caved Matt's skull in with a brick, so that's something at least."

There was a long beat of stunned silence and I finally shrugged.

"I don't know how he's doing with that stab wound, if it was enough for him to bleed out but… he's injured and on the run now." I said, nodding to myself. The Brotherhood was crippled now, and I got the feeling I wouldn't have to wait long before Maero called me out to finish this. I'd be better prepared next time.

"_Daaamn_ Boss… that's some crazy fuckin shit." Pierce said with awe. A half smile edged up my face and I leant back into the sofa, feeling a little cocky. Gat cleared his throat and I looked up to him, his mouth a tight line across his face and his eyes hidden by the glare on his glasses.

"Not to be pushy Boss but… are you_ out of your FUCKING MIND!_"

I jolted sharply as he turned on me, suddenly advancing fast and before I knew it was standing over the top of me, "Maero is _ten fuckin' times your size!_ He could have _killed_ you, you _god damn idiot!_"

I felt my jaw drop and my fist ball up instinctively. What. The _Fuck_? I wanted to say something but honestly I… I didn't know what to say.

Shaundi was suddenly every still, watching us and Pierce jolted uneasily, speaking up, "Gat, chill man, she's o-"

"Stay the fuck outta this!" Gat snapped back and pointing at Pierce threateningly. He'd had never yelled at me before, I was too confused to think of anything to say, so I just stood, scowling and went to brush past him.

"No!" he shouted again, "No _don't_ you fucking walk away from me-"

He grabbed my shoulder and I whirled around sharply, throwing his hand off me and scowling. Downstairs the noise seemed to have quieted a little. Pierce and Shaundi were suddenly still and on edge.

"Don't _you_ fucking talk to me like that!" I said sharply stepping up to him, searching his face for some kind of explanation, "I knew what I was doing and need I remind you it was _Maero_ who was running away like a little bitch at the end of it."

Gat had leeway, more than anyone in the world, but I will never take that kind of shit in front of my crew. And for god's sakes I was sitting there nursing cracked bones and a crushed neck, why the _fuck_ was he yelling at me!

"You fell through _six floors_ if you hadn't landed on him_-_" Gat scolded but I cut him off,

"Yeah well I did and I was two god damn seconds from killing him if it wasn't for Ma-"

"-It was _luck_." Gat shouted sharply over the top of me and I took two swift steps up to him till we were chest to chest.

"You seriously wanna pull this shit with me Gat?" I threatened quietly, the anger bubbling from seemingly nowhere. Johnny's eyes were narrowed at me and his mouth was tight.

"What you _threatening_ me, _hard ass_? Oh you took Maero I'm sure _I'm_ no fuckin problem," he said icily, closing the space between us even more till I could feel the movement of his breaths. Christ what the _hell_ was going on about? Why was he so god damn angry?

"You don't wanna do this Johnny." I warned lowly, glaring at him and trying to press my thoughts into his head. _Not in front of my crew Johnny, yell at me later if you have an issue but NOT in front of my crew_. I tried stepping back but he'd suddenly grabbed my arm, pulling me in close, his fingers digging cruelly into my flesh. He hadn't heard me.

"Or what? Pretty fucking obvious you won't take care of yourself and I-"

"Get out." I snapped coldly before I knew the words were out of my mouth. Johnny blinked – his hands were tight over my arms, painfully tight, and I was held hard against his hot skin. He was so _close_ now; his muscles were tense against mine and his intense dark eyes were boring into me and I could taste his breath on my mouth and –

For one insane moment, I would've kissed him.

In another insane moment, I swore _he_ was about to kiss _me_. I bit my lip suddenly and he edged in holding me _hard_ and _close_ and… I could feel my whole body against his and angry goose bumps roared over my skin. We'd always been fine with being physically close but the way he held me now…

He snarled letting me go sharply like it was painful to keep holding on.

"Fine." He snarled, turning on his heel and stalking from the room.

I stood there, gaping, arms and injuries aching, and trying to work out what the fuck had happened in the last forty-five seconds of my life. I watched him stalking away through the hall, not waiting for the elevator and disappearing through the sub-basement stairs.

Johnny…

I growled, and it felt like there was a hole punched into my side and every centimetre of my skin where he touched me was tingling and on fire.  
>Johnny and I had fought, worse than <em>anything<em> we'd ever-

Well _fuck him!_ I gritted my teeth and snarled sharply, he was acting like such a fucking baby and if he had some issue he could be _man_ enough to fucking tell me about it rather than trying to make me look like a pussy in front of my crew!

Pierce chased me as I charged into my room, I tried to slam the door but he had a hand against it and followed me in.

"Fuck _the fuck_ off Pierce I swear to god!" I yelled, pacing over the carpet distractedly. Even my cusses were clumsy.

"Boss, listen, you can't be pulling that shit with him," Pierce said and I swirled around, jaw dropping and fingers almost reaching for my gun. I could see Shaundi quietly in the door way.

"Oh fucking _can't_ I?" I shouted. How the _hell_ was he taking Gat's irrational fucking side on this! I was gonna _skin that mother f-_

"I don't mean it like that, you know I don't." Pierce tried to rationalise desperately when I'd whirled on him. He was holding up his hands and trying to placate me like I was some sort of rabid dog.

"You heard how he was talking about me!" I yelped, and my throat felt tight and for a moment, for the briefest moment… I thought I might cry. My eyes suddenly dried and became cold again and nothing happened (of course). I shook my head and growled, "Pierce I ain't dealin with that shit, especially not in front of my crew. He's talking like I'm some fucking damsel in distress!"

I sat down on the end of my bed, my head in a whirl. I hated fighting with Gat, in the whole time I'd known him we'd had only the one misunderstanding, and fighting with him was so damn unnatural. I put my head in my hands and tried to work out _why_ on earth he'd yelled at me in the first place. What had I done? What had happened? It _couldn't_ have just been Maero, I'd fought guys before and won, it was no problem… I felt my face contorting painfully when I glowered. There was a weight next to me, and Shaundi's hand was on my shoulder.

"Boss… look we all know you the scariest bitch in this city, trust me, Gat knows it too," she tired to assure me quietly and I gritted my teeth feeling blood filling my mouth again from a cut on the inside of my cheek.

"Yeah but you can't… you shouldn't be getting mad at him for doin what comes to him natural." Peirce added.

I dropped my hands to the quilt and snapped a dark glare to Pierce. _Still_ taking Gat's side? "_Natural?_"

"Easy, easy." He said, holding up his hands and looking nervous, like he was keeping ready to make a run for it, "What he did just now was _way_ outta line, we _all_ know it but… he ain't ever forgiven himself for what happened with Aisha, and… just trust me, it's a guy thing. And I know it's gonna sound sexist as shit, but like it or not, you can be as bad as you want but it ain't gonna change the fact you got a pussy."

I opened my mouth to speak and beside me heard Shaundi do the same but he quickly continued.

"Guys can't help being guys," he said, swiftly putting his hand on my shoulder and I tried to ignore his words but they burned onto my skin, forcing me to re-examine them. "Especially Gat. I ain't sayin it's right, but getting mad at him for trying to protect a girl he cares about is like getting mad at a dog for bringin you a dead bird. You ain't gonna like it but it's his way of showin he cares."

I looked back to the carpet, furious. I don't think shouting me apart when I'm sitting there injured really constituted trying to _protect _me.

"Leave me alone. Both of you." I growled darkly and they was quick to comply. Shaundi got up from the bed but paused at the door, looking over her shoulder to me.

"You need help with anything?" she asked, indicating, I suppose, to my injuries. I shook my head and she quickly followed Pierce and left, closing the door quietly behind me.

I hung my head in my hands, my blood still burning angrily. No, it still didn't make sense to me. I crushed my eyes shut for a few seconds, the adrenaline of my anger beginning to abate and my sore body started nagging at me again. I gingerly ran my hands over my bruised arms, my skin covered with grime and dried blood. I growled and stood up, moving to my ensuite for a shower and flicked the light switch, the bright fluorescent light blinking on, and suddenly I could see my reflection in the mirror. I gasped.

There was a wide trail of dried blood from my mouth that ran right down my neck, half my face was covered in huge purplish bruises including an impact cut on my cheek and almost all the white in my left eye had gone red from a burst blood vessel. There were bands of dark bruising around my throat from where Maero had tried to strangle me and the cut on my lip was so much more swollen than it had felt and…

I hadn't realised. After seeing what I did to Maero I was certain _I _was the one who came out on top from that fight, I mean, _sure_, I felt a little sore and figured I might have a black eye but the adrenaline must've muted any pain I was feeling… I leant forward and studied my injuries closer in the mirror and thought about that loosened tooth and the blood I'd been spitting out. I cringed and glanced down at my top, then slowly, gingerly, began to pull my clothes off, half nervous and half curious as to how I would look underneath. I dropped the torn, bloodied shirt and bra to the floor, eyes drinking in the horror story that was my body. My torso, like my face, was littered in bruises. There were small nicks and cuts here and there, and two huge blotches of black and red where Maero had punched me in the stomach. My sides ached – cracked ribs? Internal bleeding? Fuck…

I winced and turned my body to check my back, and it was the same story as my front. With a pained sigh I began unbuttoning my jeans and very carefully sliding them down of my legs, kicking shoes off as I did, then edged my way to the shower.

So this was what they had seen, this was why everyone had been fawning over me… I blinked my sore eyes and let the hot water hammer down over my tender body, washing away the grime. Why would Gat have been yelling at me when I looked like _this_? Jerk. You'd think he'd be angry at Maero, not _me_.

I allowed myself a wince and a groan as I started scrubbing my sore skin, my body starting to let me know the severity of my injuries. Oh yeah, I'd been in a fight… I let the water rinse me off as I began to lather shampoo quickly through my hair, sighing and closing my eyes, losing myself in thought.

I felt sick with upset, though it could also have been all of my blood I'd been swallowing. I needed to talk to Johnny, I needed to figure out what the hell was going on. I ran through the short argument in my mind and felt my body tense when I thought about my weird reaction to him holding me – if his yelling at me was confusing it was _nothing_ to what I had felt those brief seconds after I told him to leave. I shouldn't have reacted like that. Johnny was… was my _best_ friend, we were closer than brother and sister I uh… I mean he was Aisha's property. I rattled my head sharply. No, no Johnny and I weren't like that; I was just high on adrenaline and probably needing to get laid so my body's reaction really had _nothing_ to do with him. Nothing at all.

The hot water rinsed the soap from my hair and I quickly ran some conditioner through the tips. Maybe that's why he was yelling at me, big brothers yelled at little sisters, right? I wrapped my arms around my aching body letting the water drum down over my head and hunted through my infinite memories of him… slowly I bit my lip and frowned.

I don't think brothers and sisters act like we do. Actually, I can't be sure _friends_ act like we do. My eyes slipped closed…

"_Yo, you missed spot. You know, if you gonna be taggin' half the city you could try an' get it done properly-"_

"_You're seriously criticizing my work when the best you've ever tagged is 'Tanya's a Cum Dumpster' on the side of TeeN'Ay?"_

"_Hey girl comparing work is no excuse for you bein' lazy."_

_I turned and gave a quick spurt of spray paint in his direction, a little gold splattering over his jacket,_

"_Argh! Hey fuckoff!" he said with a laugh and tried to escape but I chased him down, jumping up onto his back and crushing the trigger of the can with my index finger, thickly coating the snowy tips of his hair with gold – he struggled and we crashed down onto the concrete, grappling in a short play fight as he tried to wrestle the can of paint from my hands._

I opened my eyes slowly and felt myself smiling. He was getting together with Eesh then and I blinked, remembering that at that time he'd thought I was a dyke. Would he have been cool with our mucking about like that if he'd known otherwise? I didn't know… I mean now we were just naturally close and back then I hadn't thought anything of it. I didn't think we'd changed too much since then…

"_Yo, you missed a spot,"_ _he teased and I felt a flash of annoyance, jolting my head to the side and feeling the paintbrush that held my hair up jab him on the cheek. He grumbled as he wiped the lilac paint from his face and I felt myself begin to smile._

"_There. Got it." I teased back, resting against his chest comfortably and feeling him silently laugh… we talked quietly for a while, looking back up at the mural I was working on till eventually I must've fallen asleep on his shoulder. When I woke up again, he hadn't moved. His arm was still securely around my shoulders, my head still comfortably against his chest, hearing his heart beating against my skin._

Rattling my head sharply again I shut the water off, quickly jumped out and snagged a towel, ignoring the pain in my body as I rubbed myself dry. Had to get dressed before the cold started kicking in.

I ducked into my bedroom and began to quickly tug on clean underwear and clothes; jeans, my buckled biker boots, a long-sleeve top and my leather jacket with the purple fleur-de-lis and 'Saints' insignia over the back of it. I quickly raked a brush through my hair, splitting it over my shoulders and binding them into braids. Yeah, pig-tail plaits, I know, but my hair was wet and it was going to be freezing outside, I needed it bound. I went to my dresser, rifling through the drawers for a beanie, scarf and gloves, yanking them on. I narrowed my eyes at my face, deciding it wouldn't hurt to put a little foundation on. Ok, a _lot_ of foundation. I smeared the makeup over my bruises, wincing unhappily and trying to edge the ivory paste around my sore lips and eyes. My face was starting to swell, but at least the colouring was mostly hidden. I should probably have gotten my torso bandaged but fuckit, I was in a hurry.

I hunted through the pile of clothes on my bathroom floor for my phone and keys, jamming them into my pockets and starting for the door.

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><p>I drove for a while, trying to think of where he would have gone; he wasn't answering his phone. I dropped by one or two of his dives then settled on swinging by the downtown loft, his preferred crash site after Purgatory.<p>

I stepped into the familiar site; like most of my places it was pretty much a permanent party that was happening without my permission, though after the battle today, my Saints were all fairly low-key. I narrowed my eyes and peered through the dim light, steeling myself against the heavy deep thrumming of the base music.

It was a moment before I spotted him; he was sitting on a sofa up the back with one or two Saints, watching a black-haired hooker spin herself around a pole, her pale skin lilac in the tinted lights. I felt my mouth twist and walked up to the kitchen, grabbing two beers and heading over; I was getting a few curious looks from some of the Saints and I guess they either noticed my swollen eye, bruised lip or uh… pigtails. Johnny spared me a small glance and bristled slightly as I approached and for a moment he looked like he was about to say something, but pulled back. I dropped down casually next to him and handed him a bottle which he took cautiously, frowning as he studied me. I wanted to speak but the music was too loud, so we sat there, watching the girl spin and bend to the music, grinding her crotch up against the pole. I tried taking a sip from my beer and winced at the pain in my mouth, quickly putting fingers to my lips to stop the brew from dribbling out. It started washing away the copper taste of blood and cooled my sore stomach, and I relaxed back, still cringing at the pain in my sides. There was suddenly something cold and hard on my brow and cheek and I flinched, glancing to my side and seeing Johnny holding his brew gingerly against my face. He leant in to be heard over the music

"The makeup's not foolin' anyone," he teased, and I tried to smile but nothing came of it. I tapped him on the shoulder and indicated away. He habitually drummed his fingers on the bottle then pulled it away from my cheek, getting to his feet to follow me through the thin crowd to the spare room, the noise fading through the walls when he followed and closed the door. I set my beer down on the bedside table, stuck my hands in my pockets and turned to look at him.

"Gat," I started as steadily as I could and trying to stop my temper from flaring. He was watching me with a steely expression, "I don't know what-"

"Look Boss, I'm sorry, it ain't importa-"

"Bullshit. Gat, you and me _never_ fought like that before." I paused with a blink, "Well, you put me through a wall once but that was different." I saw a smile twitch at his lips when I said that, "Now, I don't know _why _you felt it necessary to start _screaming _at me when I'm sitting there waiting to get patched up but you gotta know you _can't_ be talking like that in front of the crew." I finished. He was looking sheepish but his jaw was still set, unwilling to concede just yet.

"Or what?" he said brusquely, "Since when did you ca-"

"I've always fuckin cared Gat!" I said sharply and suddenly wincing – yelling hurt my sides and throat. Johnny took a quick concerned step forward, a hand reached out but I gently batted it away. I was _fine_. "You don't get it, I don't have a cock hanging off my crotch and it takes a _little_ more effort for me. I gotta be _ten times_ the asshole _any_ man is in order to just play the fuckin game. You talk to me like that in front of the crew and suddenly I'm not their leader, I'm some weak bitch who needs a _man_ to take care of her." I held up my hand as he went to speak, and began to steady my own tone – he had enough issues controlling his temper, at least _one_ of us would have to stay rational, "I get where you're coming from, _I do_, but if they start thinking they can't rely on me… you get the idea."

"Yeah, I get it, it's just…" he screwed up his hands in frustration and closed the space between us even more, "You're always doing such _stupid shit_. For god's sakes Boss, _look_ at yourself! Do you _have_ a death wish?"

I blinked at him, my sore eyes being cast to the ground, "… Not specifically." I said, thinking back over my actions – _had_ I been more thoughtless lately? I could hardly tell.

There was a long silence, and eventually he sighed, stepping around me and dropping down to sit on the bed, leant forward, his elbows on his knees.

"… I already lost Eesh." He said darkly. "Then you lost Carlos and just started running around doing reckless shit an-"

"Don't _you_ talk to me about reckless," I said coolly, finding myself annoyed again. Johnny just rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and looked up at me.

"Boss, you' the most important person in my life," he said. I felt myself bite my sore bottom lip, suddenly sheepish at his tone and his expression as he continued, "Fuckit, I don't even know your god damn _name_," he glowered. I cast my eyes to the ground, never having realised how much that had bothered him; but when you're the most wanted person in the city it was better to be anonymous. I moved slowly to sit down on the bed next to him, wincing and wishing I'd had a few more painkillers before I'd left the hideout. Johnny gave me another worried frown when he saw me cringing but I waved my hand nonchalantly, and then carefully put my hand on his forearm. He owed me for what he did in front of the crew and he knew it, but now it was just _us_. Me and Gat. After a long pause he slung an arm carefully over my hurt shoulders, giving my arm a gentle squeeze and tugging me into him tightly, "Just… don't get yourself killed." He finished.

We were quiet for a while, both feeling awful about the fight and comforted knowing it was all over. But I still felt a crack in our relationship, something strange, like he was holding back from me, or me from him and I wasn't sure what… and suddenly it was out of my mouth before I could stop myself; I leant in and quickly, lowly, the two words spilled from my lips, stale and foreign after years of never being used.

My name.

Gat jolted beside me; I felt him sit up a little and peered at me over the top of his glasses,

"Who?" he asked then blinked with a short laugh at my wry expression, speaking with surprise, "wait… seriously?" he asked with a light smile.

I nodded, then shot him a sly look, "Tell anyone and I-"

"You'll kill me," he said with a huge grin which I couldn't help but mirror, "That's be awfully ambitious of you."

"Yep."

We went quiet again, his hand slipping down my back and resting comfortably on the quilt behind me.

After a beat, he repeated my name aloud, sounding it out and smiling. I liked the way he said it; it didn't sound so alien when _he_ said it. "Gotta say there Boss, I expected something more badass." Johnny finished with a chuckle. I nudged him with my elbow, eyebrows raised.

"Badass, _Jonathan?_" I said with a smile, and he shot me a dark look, thought it was short lived. He just smiled and shook his head.

"So _that's _how you manage to survive all the shit you do, luck of the Irish? The last name is Irish, not Scottish, right?" he asked and I rolled my eyes with a smile.

"Yeah, it's Irish. Mother's side though, also the reason I don't tan well… and you still owe me an apology," I warned quietly and he frowned at me.

"You _know_ I'm sorry," he said, and I waved a finger at him.

"Uh-uh. You know what I mean. You don't get to shout me apart like a dovakiin in front of my crew then-"

"A _what_?"

"A dovaki- you know what, never mind. Either way, you're still in-"

"The dog house, right…" he said, hanging his head, "… You need some aspirin or something? Pain killers?"

My sore lips pulled into a grin, "Good start. You know how to bandage a torso for cracked ribs?"

Johnny chuckled, getting to his feet, "Just call me Dr House."

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><p><strong>Just realised I'm beginning to run out of SR2 story line. Don't worry, pleanty of other stuff, but might see what I can do with the DLC<strong>


	33. S: Shaundi

**When in doubt, change the POV and wait till the next chapter ;)**

**Again, i'd like to thank you all for reviewing my darlings, but do have to say this; any flames or criticisms please be kept for my work and _not directed at each other_. We're all grownups here (I think) and I'm also a massive attention whore.**

**This was the first time I was literally one click away from uploading a chapter then said 'No. This is absolute pig shit', deleted the whole thing and started again from scratch. I'm hoping this is some sort of an improvement...**

**Enjoy my pretties!**

* * *

><p>The first time I met Kurt we were at an album launch at this little underground record store call Hardwire. It was his friend's band who was being signed (I used to date the drummer) and I was pretty into him from the get go. He was cute enough, you know, nothing to loose your head over, but after chatting for about an hour I found out he was actually a really interesting guy; we had the same sense of humour, liked the same movies and bands and stuff and he was really passionate about poetry, of all things. He drove me home that night and we made out in the car for a bit but… it was the first time in a while that I didn't actually take a guy to bed on a first 'date'. I mean yeah it technically wasn't a date but whatever. Usually I just liked a quick one-night stand and could part ways with the guy as a buddy the next morning but… <em>okay<em> it's gonna sound cheesy, but Kurt gave me butterflies.

I didn't get to see as much of him as I would've liked; I mean, so much has been going down lately that it's just been too hectic, and I didn't want to tell him anything about it or let him know how far I was in with the Saints (it tended to scare guys off a little). But he was sweet, you know, really nice about it all, catching up with me when he could. And now the Brotherhood were wiped out (well, Maero was still out there somewhere but we'd get him soon enough) and Kurt and I finally managed to go out on a proper date. Trust me, I'd waited long enough for this guy and I wasn't disappointed; the sex was _incredible_, I hadn't come that hard in _years_. Waking up the next morning, I was feeling pretty good; curled up next to his warm, naked chest, his arm around my shoulders. I could see the first snow of winter dusting down outside his bedroom window and couldn't think of a better way to spend a cold day then staying right where I was, even though we'd agreed to head out later.

Kurt stretched out next to me as he woke up and I smiled a little, wrapped an arm around him and tugged him in closer. He glanced down at me and smiled.

"Hey girl," he said, and then sat himself up a little – I toppled off him but didn't really mind too much. He reached for his phone, checking the time and I propped myself up on my elbows, watching him as he slung his legs over the side of the bed. I guess he wasn't up for a sleep in then.

"So, you still up for heading out later today?" I was saying before I knew it, "I got some… Christmas shopping and stuff to get done so maybe we catch a movie while we're out?"

Kurt looked over his shoulder with surprise. I'd been expecting a smile, the surprise made me feel uneasy. Then he started getting dressed.

"Huh? Oh uh… nah. Nah that's cool," he said and pulled up his pants. I already knew what he was going to say next… I just hadn't expected it from him, "But hey, if you ever wanna do you know, _this_ again, give me a call some time."

I froze up a little at that, working out what had just been said and… well, what else was I gonna do but smile and get up? I hunted on the floor for my clothes, yanking them quickly onto my body and trying not to let him see my confusion. When I walked around the bed to get to the door he quickly leant in, pressing a kiss on my head and leant out again, tugging his shirt on, "Huh, they boys were right about you baby. _Bombshell_ in the sack."

He smacked me on the ass as he left the room and I couldn't bring myself to say anything, even when I heard the bathroom door open and close. My throat felt tight… I quickly began scrimmaging through my bag, fingers falling on my stash, lighter and pipe, too impatient to roll one.

Okay. It's no big deal. One night stand with a guy, no big deal.

My hands shook a little as I lit up, and I got out of that house as fast as I could, slamming the front door behind me and sliding a little over the icy stoop as I hurried to the street. Man, it was so freaking cold… I took another quick puff and hugged my jacket around me tighter. There was no way I was walking to the hideout from here, I'd need a ride and Kurt had driven me here last night so I didn't have my car with me. I yanked out my phone and began scrolling through names. There were several guys I suppose I could call, but I didn't far through my call list before I stopped.

I don't know why I called her. I think maybe I just needed a big sister right then and she was the closest thing I had to one (well, I didn't actually know how old she was but she certainly acted like one to me).

There were a few rings before she answered.

"_What?"_

"Uh, hey Boss," I said, kicking as some snow with my shoe; it was already melting through to my socks, ick, "Where abouts are you?"

"_Rusty's, just getting some ink finished up. Whaddyou want?"_ she said.

"Which Rusty's?" I asked quickly.

"_The south end one **what do you want**?"_

Yes, it was only a few blocks away! "Oh nothing really, I was just checking in, uh, can I meet you there?"

"… _Yeah, I'll be done in ten."_

* * *

><p>She didn't seem too pleased when she found out all I needed was a ride but didn't bug me too much about it, just kept conversation you know, all business and tattoos and stuff. Her new ink wasn't much, a barbed wire band around her wrist (the boss hated arm bands, so I was a little surprised she decided on that)<p>

"Was going to get the outlines done for that one I was planning down my side, y'know? Turns out Rusty don't recommend inking a torso that needs to be wrapped up in bandages so I've had to put it off." She said dryly and there was a hint of a smirk around her mouth. I just nodded, trying to look cheerful but it wasn't easy and finally I had to be a little selfish with the conversation.

"… Boss, do you think I'm a whore?"

She raised an eyebrow, "Not even a segue, nice." She said coolly, then sighed, "Do you get paid for sex?"

"… No." I said quietly.

"Will you sleep with absolutely _anyone_ for a trade off of _any _kind?"

"No."

"Then you're not a whore." She said dismissively. Well, if the Boss says so… she gave a dry smile and continued, "A bit of a slut maybe, but there's a difference… Okay. What happened?"

I must've been looking maudlin and she sounded a little bored. Not really what I'd been hoping for, "It's just… this guy," I started, knowing she probably didn't care. She wasn't big on relationship gossip, "I thought he liked me but he… didn't."

The Boss just nodded "… What was his name?"

"Kurt."

"Oh right, I think I remember him…" she said conversationally, but her voice had an edge to it, "Where abouts did you say he lived?"

Part of me knew what would happen if I told her. Six months ago, I would never have even considered letting her know where Kurt lived but now… I only hesitated a little before surprising myself.

"Oh, some little loft in the university area," I said, blasé. The Boss only nodded, her jaw set. I knew then I'd set Kurt's fate; I was only unsure about how far she'd take it. The only thing I was worried about then was that I didn't actually feel _bad_ about what would happen to Kurt… I glanced at the Boss, her eyes covered by a pair of aviators and her jaw still set. To me she _always_ seemed like that, very still, very collected, and always a little tense or angry… man, she either needed to get stoned or get laid. One or the other. Maybe both.

When we made it down to the hideout she just went straight to her room to shower and change for the morning, and I slummed it downstairs to see who was around, and try and not think about how Kurt would look the next time I saw him.

* * *

><p>An hour later and I was at the bottom of the stairs in Purgatory playing hacky-sack when the Boss did that <em>really creepy<em> thing where she sneaks into the room without you noticing then suddenly says something and you jump out of your skin - I mean she could make an entrance when she wanted to but mostly she just moved as obviously as a ninja.

"Shaundi!"

I jolted and… yep. Lost about a year of my life. I looked up; she was standing on that middle bit of the stairs and staring at the empty space where the old broken statue had been.

"Forgot to ask – what happened to the angel?" she called out, looking over her shoulder at me and her hands on her hips. _So_ uptight…

"Oh uh, Jean wanted to take it out, we're getting a custom statue done for the space." I said, but she just narrowed her eyes at me. What? She wanted the hideout professionally decorated, I hooked her up with Jean, and she likes what's been done so far… the Boss just looked back at the empty space and growled.

"I liked that statue." She said, then turned and started down the stairs "Really brought the room together."

When she brushed past me I had a good look at her injuries which she'd covered up thickly with makeup; Maero had really done a number on her, but it'd been a day or two and we still hadn't heard from him, or anyone from the Brotherhood. As for the Samedi… well, after what happened with Carlos all my attention had been turned to the Brotherhood too so I really wasn't getting too far with that.

Whatever. I had some old friends checking them out so I'll have something for the Boss soon; I don't think she'd be looking for any sort of alliance with them. Then one of the boys kicked the hacky at my head and I blinked back, turning my attention to the game. The Boss had only been a few steps into the room when Pierce was already on her, bitching about something-or-other. I smirked and flicked the sack onto my toe.

"Heads' up Pierce!" I called out, and kicked the bag over to them but he just smacked it away. Like, nearly to the other side of the hideout. I chased after it with a groan, "Come on!"

"Sorry girl, no self respecting brother plays hacky-sack," he shot back, then started on the Boss again, "Why you got the cheerleader calling the shots and not me?"

Christ, what was it, asshole day? "_Right here_," I piped up, but they ignored me. The Boss was relaxed back on one of the new sofas, looking up at Pierce tiredly.

"Pierce, I put you in charge of the Ronin. What more do you want?"

"Yo, Shaundi, are we hackin' or what?" One of the boys asked and I tossed the sack to him. They grumbled and wandered off, not that I really cared; wouldn't mind seeing Pierce getting ripped a new one by the Boss, he'd been a real jerk lately. Or maybe I had a low threshold for jerks today.

"I can do more to help." He said, and she just narrowed her eyes at him.

"Do you know how the Sons of Samedi are still moving product after we torched their farms and drug labs?" she said icily and I tried not to grin. Peirce looked away sheepishly.

"No..."

"Then shut the fuck up." The Boss shot at him. He turned away to have a sulk, just as my phone went off. I yanked it out and checked the text; it was from Carter and I smiled at what it said, '_Sons choppers dropping cargo over west end_'

I looked back up to the Boss and Peirce who were still arguing, "Uh, guys?"

"-My solution" Pierce was continuing, "is not to stand around waiting for one of the six hundred guys Shaundi used to fuck to give us a call!"

Oh, _sweet_ irony! I spoke up a little louder to get their attention, "There's a bunch of helicopters dropping cargo over Samedi territory."

The Boss blinked and smiled at me and Pierce just gave me that disbelieving look.

"How the hell you know that?" he said. I raised an eyebrow and held up my phone, rattling it at him. He dropped his shoulders and looked away, shaking his head.

"Gotta be fucking kidding me..."

"Tell you what Pierce," The Boss said, getting to her feet and patting him on the arm, "You wanna watch me blow up helicopters, you're more than welcome."

She was starting up the stairs and I quickly followed her – _blowing up_ helicopters? I couldn't think of a better distraction or a better way to blow off steam.

"Me too?" I asked hopefully but she stopped dead in her tracks, looking down at me. Oh come _on_.

"No. This is gonna be some dangerous shit." She said and tried to make it sound final. I felt a pout coming on – always worked with guys but unfortunately never on the Boss. Eh, have to try and convince her.

"C'mon," I cooed, "with you and Pierce and Ga-"

"Gat's not coming either." She said, turning around and just kept walking up the stairs and I blinked.

"… What? Why?"

Pierce bumped past me, grinning over his shoulder, "He's grounded."

Well, at least I wasn't the only one. I folded my arms and glared up the staircase as they left. Ugh. I should never have puked on my first mission with the Boss, she hadn't trusted me properly since. I mean… okay getting kidnapped by Vince hadn't helped (oh uh, Veteran Child, that is) but I was working my _ass_ of since then. Even when the Samedi started attacking the hideout, and even when we went and fought the Brotherhood, _still_ not enough for her.

I slumped down and sat on the stairs, pulling a joint out of my pocket. _Chill Shaundi, just chill_. I lit up, took a drag, and let the world melt away, all the annoyances going with it. Oh yeah…

I stretched out there for a while, realising there would be very few adventures to be had that day so I might as well get stoned. I rolled my head back when I heard uneven footsteps I was beginning to recognise, and saw Gat moseying down the stairs above me. I was going to greet him but settled with a lazy wave.

"You better slow down there Shaundi. Working too hard, you gonna strain something," he said and I chuckled a little, "You seen the Boss?" he asked and I blinked at him.

"Yeah. Went out blowing up helicopters with Pierce. Left me behind." I sighed softly. He grunted then settled down next to me and I noticed him frowning, so I passed him the joint. He raised an eyebrow and shrugged, taking a drag. "So… everything cool with you and the Boss?"

"Yeah, 'course," he said, breathing out the smoke and relaxing back a bit, passing the joint back to me. I raised an eyebrow at him and took a deep drag.

"Cos from what I've seen she's not been taking you out on any jobs lately," I teased and he scowled, snatching the joint back away from me. I just chuckled, "C'mon, she'll be over it soon. Happy wife happy life, right?"

I had meant it as a joke (they had a weird relationship that I always thought was adorable) but he bristled a little at that. Huh, interesting.

"Well at least she's taking Pierce with her." He said after taking a drag and passed the joint back to me. I drew hard, the paper shrivelling as I burned down a good breath of it. No biggie, I got more in the car.

"She had to," I said, sighing happily, "Someone needed to drive, right?"

"And keep an eye on her." He said pointedly. I rolled my eyes.

"Oh come on Gat not this shit again," I sighed. Fucking _men_. The Boss was the hardest bitch on the face of the earth, but _ooh_ she has _ovaries_, she must need someone taking care of her. Pfft. Gat sat up straighter next to me, scowling.

"What, you taking her side on this?"

"Well yeah, you were being kind of a dick," I warned, "She gets the shit kicked outta her and you _yell_ at her after?"

"Look, I get that I was outta line, but even you gotta admit what she did was pretty fuckin… I mean you _saw_ her when she came back." He said. I sighed and passed him the joint. Relax, Gat.

"Yes, I did. But did you ever see how Carlos looked when the Brotherhood were done with him? I don't blame her for going off the rails a bit there. Sure they weren't exactly going out or anything-"

"You know I still don't get how that happened." He interrupted and I shrugged, maudlin, plucking the joint from his between his fingers. I didn't take a drag right away though.

"…I guess they just got the drop on him-"

Gat just cut me off again, "No, I mean… why she was into him."

"Jeez, who wouldn't be?" I said with a laugh, smiling a little when I remembered Carlos. I hadn't gotten to know him as much as I've hoped, "He was one _spunky_ Mexican, and that accent… _ooh_. If he wasn't always drooling over the Boss I sure as hell would've gone there."

"Big fuckin surprise," Johnny shot at me darkly. I flinched a bit at that, studying his features. Sure the crew liked to tease me about my history, but I wasn't in the mood for it after this morning. Not only that, but he didn't say that as a joke and I got the feeling I'd pissed him off somehow.

"… Okay now you're just being a buzz kill," I said, and we both looked away, a slight awkward silence falling. I hate awkward silences almost as much as I hated arguing, though how Gat could've still been so cranky after half a joint… I glanced sidewards at him and yeah, he was still scowling. Had what I said really pissed him off that much? Man, he must've been well jealous of Carlo-

_Ohhh_…

That poor bastard.

"…Here," I said, handing the joint back to him, "You need this more than I do."

He gave a single silent laugh and I don't think he caught my drift, just sat there sucking back the last of the joint, leaning back on the stairs and finally starting to chill. A long, less uncomfortable silence fell and I could feel my head starting to swim… I still had to go out and I didn't feel like wandering around alone, and now I was just stoned enough that it didn't seem like a pain, and not _so_ much that it did.

"So…" I started and tried to reboot the conversation, "you planning anything for Christmas?" Gat gave me a pretty flat look and I shrugged, "Cos I was gonna maybe get some gift shopping and stuff done, didn't know if you needed to?"

"Well that sounds like a fuckin riot." He replied, looking away. I sighed.

"Okay, so it's not exactly blowing up helicopters, but it kinda beats slumming around here till the Boss gets back," I said, but I was clearly not convincing him. Me and Gat had never really hung out before but he seemed like a nice enough guy (when he wasn't doing that whole 'mass murder' thing). I considered another tactic, "You got her anything good for Christmas?"

"We don't really do 'Christmas'."

Fine. "Okay. Whatever man, have fun," I snapped and I headed up the stairs. I share my pot with him and _this_ is what I get? Maybe I could give Carter a call, he probably wasn't busy, and I'm pretty sure he'd be happy enough to carry my bags for me. I got to the elevator and clicked the call button when Gat called out.

"Yo hold up-"

I glanced over my shoulder to him as he strode over quickly, just as the doors to the lift slid open and I stepped inside, holding it for him.

"Didn't think you'd change your mind that easy," I teased as he slipped in next to me, the doors sliding closed again and we lurched upwards. Gat just shrugged.

"I need to pick something up for her anyway." He said when the lift slowed, the doors behind us sliding open, out into the parking lot. I nudged him playfully.

"A 'sorry' present, huh?"

He just glared at me, "No. I just needed to get something for her."

"Sure, sure…"

* * *

><p>So we'd been walking around in these huge Christmas crowds in the Rounds Square mall for a bout two hours now, and heard Mariah Carey's terrible Christmas carol about seven times. I'd gotten everything I was after but Johnny wasn't so easy and I was starting to regret bringing him along.<p>

"You know, she might just be happy with a new gun." I said, starting to get tired, "Get it engraved or something."

Gat narrowed his eyes around the mall and stuck close to me; his glasses were tucked away in his pocket (apparently he was less recognisable _without_ them) and he had a skull cap over his hair.

"She got me a _flamethrower_ I think a glock isn't quite going to cut it." He said and I sighed.

"Yeah, but that was for your birthday,"

Johnny shifted a little. I glanced up at him, then felt a small thrill, "Is this a _birthday_ thing?" I gasped and he didn't respond, "Oh my god! _When?_ We should do something for her!"

He turned sharply on me then, "No way Shaundi, she's been in a bad enough mood as it is-"

"Well maybe this is a good chance to cheer her _up!_" I tried. Okay, the Boss hated parties, but everyone deserves to feel special on their birthday. My family had never been exactly 'functional', but if there was one thing we did right, it was birthdays. "We all love her right; it'd be good to let her know it. Doesn't have to be a huge thing, I'm just saying-"

"Yo let's just stick with a present for now." Gat quickly cut me off. I could feel a pout but held it back, sticking my hands on my hips.

"… Sure, if you think you could settle on anything." I said, looking about. What shops hadn't we been to yet? _Nobody Loves Me_ was having a sale.

Gat just rambled for a bit, "Yeah, well I gotta get her _somethin_' g-"

I kept walking for a bit before I realised he'd stopped. I looked over my shoulder at him and shivered; Oh Christ, he had that _look_. You know, his eyes narrow and he only smiles with one side of his face. He wasn't looking at me, he was looking at a car that was on display next to a sign with 'Foreign Power Dealers' next to it. I cringed and quickly followed him when he started walking towards it; so long as he doesn't do the _chuckle_ too then we're fine. I think.

"Well _this_ looks pretty nice." He said, sticking his hands in his pockets when he got to the car. A Bezier, bright orange, "I mean the colour's shitty but ain't nothing we can't fix."

"I don't know anyone who wouldn't mind a two hundred thousand dollar car, but it'd be a pain to gift wrap." I offered, "What about a nice bracelet or something?"

Some suit was already walking towards us.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" he said. He was kinda cute actually, but a bit too sleazy for my liking. Gat nodded casually as the guy kept talking, "Handles like a dream too, lighter weight than the Attroizone but has torsional rigidity of thirty five thousand Newton-meters per degree of twist."

Yeah, cos we knew what that meant.

"Sounds good – I like a car that can take a beating. Not that you'd ever abuse a machine like this," Gat said and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes; he knew as much about cars as I did so he was _acting_ and clearly up to something, but I didn't like to think of what, "How many seconds?" he asked, eyebrows raised. The salesman grinned.

"Zero to sixty in two point nine," he said, nodding, "Top speed of two-oh-five. It's a revised propulsion system, sixty-degree twelve-cylinder arrangement, pushes six-point-five litres. That's about six-ninety horsepower."

Gat just kept nodding and trying to look like he knew what he was on about and I was starting to get bored. I walked over to the car and leant against it. Well, it was pretty sexy.

"I've been in the market for one of these for a while," Gat mused, "You getting more in at the dealership?"

"Yessir, we are-"

"And V12 you said? Wouldn't mind hearing that," Gat said. I looked at him sharply. He pulled his glasses from his pocket and slipped the rectangle frames over his eyes, the thin tinting hiding them. He had that _look_ again… geez I just wanted to go shopping, what was he planning? The salesman chuckled and rubbed his hands together.

"Ah, no sound sweeter, am I right?" he said, pulling the keys from his jacket pocket, unlocking the car and sliding into the front seat, settling in comfortably. He obviously loved that car; he ran his hands over the leather and steering wheel like he was getting off on it. He carefully turned the keys in the ignition and the car roared into life, rumbling right up through my body and drawing the attention of the shoppers nearby. Then there was a much more disturbing rumbling, the sound of Gat chuckling. Oh this didn't bode well…

"Babe, jump on in shot gun, wanna see how you look in this car."

I glared over the top of the car at Johnny who was smiling dangerously. The salesman opened the door from the inside and I sighed, slipping in to the comfy seat; the car certainly smelt new. I glanced across the salesman who was smiling at Gat.

"Looks a right picture, doesn't she?" he offered, and I saw Gat lean down to look into the car, grinning at me.

"Sure does."

I should've seen this coming. Gat suddenly reached in, grabbing the salesman by the back of his head and slamming his face down onto the steering wheel, causing the car to erupt its horn loudly. He dragged the guy out of the car and quickly slipped in, slamming the door closed and awkwardly yanking the gears. I sighed.

"Johnny, are you _crazy_?" I stressed.

"It's been suggested but never confirmed," he said and I admittedly had to giggle. I thought he'd be looking to boost one from the showroom not the _mall_, but there was no turning back now, "How are you even planning on getting this thing outta here?"

The car suddenly lurched forward sharply and I grunted, scrambling to put my seatbelt on.

"Hey, there's a parking lot, right? Oops, shit-" he said, just as the car jerked and stalled when he tried to switch gears. The sales guy was suddenly hammering on the window with one hand and nursing his bloodied nose with the other. I cringed.

"Chrissakes Johnny _drive!_" I yelled and he slammed the gears again, the car lurching forward a second time and he did that creepy laugh again, tearing off across the mall, side-swiping a wall as the crowds began leaping out of the way. I could feel my heart racing – I was gonna have to smoke an _ounce_ when this was done.

"Oh wait, parking lot's down the other end, isn't it? You got a gun?" Gat said quickly as he swerved past the food court. I gripped the upholstery tighter.

"_No_, I don't! I thought we were going sho- _watch it!_"

I shut my eyes tight when I saw someone wasn't about to jump out of the way soon enough – the body made a heavy thud and it rolled up over the roof of the car and I quickly turned to look out the back window.

"Yeesh, that's gonna smart…" Gat said as he started racing down the long stretch of the mall to the other end, people leaping out of the way as he did. Behind us I saw a few guards on quad bikes trying to give chase. The car suddenly swerved and I grabbed my seatbelt tighter, cringing as Gat tried to squeeze it through the narrow hall and slammed the gas harder when we were lined up with the glass sliding doors that opened to the underground parking lot; it raced up to us and I jolted again in my seat when we crashed through. Johnny began tearing through the parking lot, twisting up the ramps, the car drifting a little and the trunk crunched against a concrete pylon.

"You know Gat, if you're going to all the trouble of stealing the Boss a car you could try and get it back to her in one piece." I suggested and Johnny shrugged, leaning back into the silky upholstery.

"Hey, it ain't no problem. I'll get this baby to Semi-Broken, be good as new in no time."

We rounded the last corner and I saw the bright daylight at the top of the ramp; Gat slammed the gas hard and I grinned as we rocketed up, the car getting air when we finally erupted from the parking lot and into the street, jolting sharply when we landed.

"Wouldn't mind seeing how this thing would handle the jumps," I offered breathlessly, but Gat didn't reply. _Okay_, so I guess this wasn't our toy to play with… anyway, we went ripping through the streets, too fast and putting too much distance between us and the mall for any cops to get on to us. We took the far west bridge back into the south island, gliding around the road by the arena.

"Yeah, I love goin' for a drive," Gat mused, relaxed back into the seat and avoiding shifting gears as much as possible. We wove easily through the traffic and I breathed out, relaxing back into my seat; well, I wasn't getting to see helicopters exploding, but stealing a car from a packed shopping mall in the middle of the Christmas rush was a pretty interesting way to spend an afternoon. At least everything was alright now. Then I heard a weird noise, something like a… high-pitched whine but also a rapid beating…

Gat apparently heard it too, "Yo, what's that- _SHIT!_"

I barely saw the green and black shell of the chopper falling down to the road and suddenly it hit, racing up towards us as it bumped and slid along the ground, the blades spinning collecting the car in front of us and the whole thing engulfed in flames. I think I screamed when I saw the thing racing at us, I'm not sure, but Gat hit the brakes hard and I slammed forward against the seatbelt, the wind being knocked out of me. We swerved out of the way, bumping past the chopper as it rolled past us, sliding and finally coming to a stop just as we did a little further up the road. I was breathing hard and I think maybe shaking.

"I'm gonna go ahead and guess that the Boss is doing a pretty good job," Gat suggested. I rolled my eyes at him; he was disturbingly cool about nearly being crushed by a flaming helicopter and now was giving me a look of light puzzlement, like he couldn't work out why I was so freaked.

"Okay, can you… can you just drop me at the hideout?" I asked. Gat just chuckled.

"C'mon, don't tell me you already had enough excitement there kid," he teased. I narrowed my eyes at him but yelped as the car was suddenly rocked by a thick shockwave, the loud explosion of the nearby chopper finally combusting nearly making me leap out of my skin. Gat drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

"… Okay, I'ma drop you at the hideout."

"Thanks."

* * *

><p><strong>Didn't quite know how to end this one, could you tell?<strong>


	34. B: Finish Him

**Welcome to the last chapter in the Brotherhood storyline. Also the only time that an action sequence has come to me so clearly, I only hope it's as wild in black and white as it is in my head.**

* * *

><p><em>I studied my face in the mirror, carefully trying to smudge the mascara down my cheeks to trick myself. There was a knock behind me – I glanced over my shoulder as the door creaked open a little and saw Carlos poke his head around the corner. I blinked, and then laughed and turned to him.<em>

"_Hey, I didn't think I'd see you again," I sighed with relief and he walked up to me, wrapping arms around my body, pressing me back against the dresser._

"_Sorry I've been missing nena," he said, brushing that rebel lock of hair from my eyes and I smiled._

"_Sorry I kept you waiting," I replied and leant forward again to kiss his lips. I heard a soft sigh escape him and he wrapped his arms around my back, pulling me in tighter. I shivered with relief and the kiss deepened and went to wrap my arms around his neck-_

"_Hold on," Carlos said with a flinch, "can you just undo the chain first?"_

_I glanced down and realised we were actually lying down on the road, and Carlos' feet were chained up to the back of a truck. I cringed, trying to pry the metal off but it wouldn't budge._

"_Sorry nene," I said softly, leaning back up to him and he shrugged, propping himself up on his shoulders and reaching out for me. I grinned and kissed him back hungrily but Carlos gave a sudden grunt of pain, pulling away sharply, putting a hand over his mouth as blood beginning to spill from between his fingers._

"_Shit!" he groaned._

"_Carlos! What-"_

_He pulled his hand away and looked down in horror – blood was running freely, his mouth having been grated away. There was a roar of thunder as the rain started to spill. Worriedly I put a hand to Carlos' cheek but his skin shifted under my fingertips and he yelped as the chunks of flesh I was touching began falling away._

_Carlos writhed and cried out, I panicked and scooped the lost bits of flesh up into my hands to try and piece him back together but they melted into blood and ran from between my fingers._

"_Fuck! Carlos hold on," I said desperately as the rain began hammering down harder, washing his skin away – he writhed and began to cry out in pain and I tried to hold his face together, but everywhere I touched him it was only making it worse._

"_Boss, stop!" he was crying out, "Let me go, stop!"_

"_Carlos, I'm sorry, I, I'm trying to help-"_

"_Kill me!" he begged, his voice but not his words, "But don't do this! JUST KILL ME DAMMIT! DON'T DO THIS!"_

My own shriek woke me from the nightmare. My skin was soaked in a cold sweat and I was breathing hard; I sat myself up, and suddenly grunted at the pain in my side, recalling my injuries. My hand ran over the bandages, coarse and fraying, and I was trying to slow my breathing and waiting for the details of the dream to disappear.

Dammit…

It was in the air now, a thick, humid weight that would follow me for the rest of the day like an omen of worse to come. Starting to feel edgy, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and checked the time on my phone. 4:28, technically morning, I guess. I pushed myself up and began scrimmaging in my bedside table for painkillers, popping the cap off the bottle and spilling a few of the little tablets into my hand, hungrily throwing them down my throat, then moving robotically through my morning routine, push ups, sit ups, shower, dress, breakfast.

The hideout was eerily quiet that early in the morning, anyone living there at the moment crashing in one of the many little hotel rooms, though there were two Saints asleep on the new couches that they'd dragged nearer to the radiator. I was scrimmaging in the bar fridge for some left over Phuc Mi Phuc Yu when my phone rang, the tone loud and shattering in the silence and I was quick to answer it. Some part of me knew who it would be before I even saw the caller ID, or heard the voice.

"It's about time." I greeted quietly down the phone. Maero's response was no more civil.

"_Get your ass to the Arena. This ends now."_

And the line was dead.

I breathed out slowly, slipping my phone back into my pocket and sticking a pair of chopsticks into the cold vegetarian noodles that were clumped together, drawing out a lump of it and shovelling them clumsily into my mouth. I shouldn't leave him waiting, I suppose…

My side twinged a little, and I thought back to our previous fight. I was unprepared then, but I wouldn't be this time… I would meet with Maero, and I would kill him, and this whole sordid story would finally come to an end. I stared at the noodles, twisting a chopstick into them.

Maero might be the one who kills me. I couldn't deny that would be a possibility, but I found I wasn't afraid of that or more likely, I just didn't really believe it was possible. In fact I wasn't really feeling anything beyond a quiet, seething hatred, and a desire to complete the circle.

I paced quietly around the bar, chewing the cold Chinese food and glancing across the foyer a little, to the room I knew Gat had crashed in. He would kill me if I went off alone… if he knew what I was doing he would probably try to follow me.

Resigned, I closed the distance to Gat's door, my hand coming up to rest on the handle for a moment before I slowly turned it, quietly as I could pushing it open a fraction and wincing when the hinges squeaked. The thin sliver of dim light from behind me crept up onto his bed when I opened the door wider, and slowly revealed his form buried under the blankets to keep from the cold. I saw him shift and I froze-

If I left now without a word, he'd wake up and find me gone, and I wouldn't be answering my phone, and he'd… yeah he'd know where I'd gone. I felt a silent sigh escape me and I frowned, stepping further into the room and quietly pacing my way over to his bed to slowly sit down on the edge of it – Johnny suddenly jolted and sniffed, twisting to look at me then slowly relaxing.

"'Smatter?" he mumbled sleepily, sitting up a little. I glanced sidewards at him, trying to make out his face in the darkness.

"Maero just called." I said, still feeling eerily calm. Johnny suddenly sat up fully, rubbing his eyes with one hand and reaching blindly for his glasses, fingers fumbling on them as he quickly slipped them on.

"Where're we meeting him?" he asked, starting to pushing the blankets off him and swinging his legs off the bed, stretching out his arms and cracking his back.

"_I'm_ meeting him at the Arena." I said pointedly. Gat froze.

"… You wouldn't be in here if you didn't want me coming with you," he said lowly and I guess, in a way, he was right.

"I'm letting you know because I'd be an ass if I didn't. This is between me and Maero," I said warningly, but he was already up. Well, that'll teach me for trying to do the right thing by my friend, "Johnny? You listening to me?"

"Yeah. And I'm hearing you trying to make a bad decision. Maero's your kill; I got no problem with that, but _hell_ if I'm letting you walk into a trap without any backup," he said as he hunted through a dry cleaning bag at the foot of his bed, pulling out dark jeans and a clean shirt, starting to change out of the track pants he'd slept in, "Don't forget, Maero tried to kill my best friend so it's kinda personal for me too."

I had to smile a little at that.

"… Right then. Who crashed here last night?" I asked. Johnny hummed to himself thoughtfully, yanking his track jumper off and threading his torso into a clean purple shirt.

"Pierce should be here somewhere." He said, looking over his shoulder and straightening his glasses. I nodded mutely, standing up and running through a checklist of what I'd need in my head. I stalked swiftly from the room, glancing shortly over my shoulder to Gat.

"Meet you upstairs in five."

* * *

><p>The dark parking lot of the arena was deserted, save for one single Brotherhood Swindle, parked by the large roller doors around the back, away from the main entrance. The door was open and leading into the loading docks under the arena, inviting me in as warmly as the gates of hell.<p>

"Boss, you know this is a trap, right?" Pierce said unnervingly from the driver's seat.

"Yep," I responded shortly, undoing my belt and pushing the door open, dropping down from the tall Alaskan truck to the ground and heading round the back to the weapons stashed in the tray. Gat was soon out and following me, clambering up onto the tray to sort through the huge arsenal we'd brought and handing me down my 'baby', the assault rifle I'd gotten the day we hijacked Maero's weapons shipment. I slung it over my back, clipping a belt of ammo around my hips, checking the rest of my weapons. Pistol on my thigh-holster, a knife in the holster by my boot, spike-rings in lieu of knuckle dusters (much more dexterous that way) and lastly, the katana strapped to my back in a sheath built right into my biker jacket. I don't know why I had decided on the katana, it had been hanging there on my wall, a trophy, but it was a last minute thing that made me decide on it. With the jacket and biker pants, lightweight and manoeuvrable but still with Kevlar reinforcement (like all good biker leathers were), I was built for battle.

"Boss, you sure about heading in there alone?" Gat said, crouched on the edge of the tray and watching my reaction carefully. I nodded coolly.

"I'll let you know if I need you guys, till then I got this," I said decidedly. He didn't respond, only nodded, hopping down from the back of the Alaskan as Pierce hopped out of the front seat, walking either side of me as I made my way into the building, through the large doors left open. The wide corridor was white and brightly lit, and when we turned a corner I could see the entrance to the inside of the arena, blacked out, the dirt mounds of the jumps visible only in the light that shone from behind me. It seemed to suck a cold breeze into it, the air whistling around my feet and tugging me closer. I glanced to the men either side of me and they paused in their steps, hanging back while I continued forward on my own. Pierce seemed cool with it, but Johnny was on edge, not that I could blame him. It stank of a trap, but I walked in willingly, stepping off the concrete and onto the soft sandy dirt, walking into the arena.

It was quiet and too dark to really see anything properly; there was a sudden, deep beep and a rumbling, the thick garage doors behind me rapidly rolling closed. I turned in time to see Pierce and Johnny racing for it, calling out to me and I instinctively flew towards them in turn, but we were too late; the roller door slammed shut just as my hand contacted with it, and on the other side I could hear them yelling and hammering, their voices too muffled to make out clearly. Realising I would have to trust they would find a way in, a way to get that door open, my hand dropped from the cold steel and I turned, trying to blink through the inky blackness of the arena. Carefully I stepped towards what I gathered was the centre, indicated only by a slight incline that began to flatten out. In the infinite silence of the dome, Maero's deep voice suddenly echoed and swerved my gaze around to find it.

"I didn't think you'd show." He thundered lowly. I quickly turned to try and find the source, but I was met only by darkness. A slight smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth.

"I'm surprised you have the balls to come alone." I sneered, swinging my rifle around and caressing the trigger with my index finger.

Maero's voice was quiet and amused when he replied, "I never said I'd be alone..."

The truck engines suddenly thundered to life around me, their headlights flashing on brilliantly and blinding my unprepared eyes; one, two, three- far more than I had anticipated, and each machine snarling like a hungry beast. I shuddered; not enough ammo to take them all out, but if I could jack one, I should be able to work out a plan. It was the deep animalistic roar that erupted behind me that gave me a real cause for concern. I turned slowly, raising my gaze up at the giant monster truck looming over me, trying to blind me with headlights and Maero's grinning face barely visible in the driver's seat. I swallowed carefully, the severity of the situation starting to come together.

"... That's… not good." I said to myself. There was a screaming and crunching of tyres over gravel as Maero suddenly charged, and he wasn't the only one. Half a second to make the decision. If I ran to the side I'd be crushed either by that huge freakin' tyre or by one of the other trucks. So I ran forward, dropping to the ground in a low, catlike crouch and a cold sweat raking over my skin as the monster truck roared over the top of me, to high to actually hit me. Then I ran blindly through the darkness. It was so fucking hard to see, the only light I had was what came from the headlights of the trucks. Though luckily for me, it would make me harder to find if I managed to hide in the shadow of a jump.

I tripped in the darkness and tumbled down a slope, sliding over the loose dirt and knocking hard into a concrete barrier. Ignoring the pain of my old injuries I spat out a mouthful of bitter dirt and scrambled up to my feet, readying my gun. The air was filled with shouts and the roar of engines as the trucks hunted me out and suddenly a bright white light fell on me, followed by the sound of gunfire. There was a heavy thud on my back and I fell forward, a little sore but unhurt, realising my trusty biker jacket had caught the bullet. I swung around, squeezing down hard on the trigger of my rifle and aiming just about the source of the blinding lights, hearing the shattering of glass and seeing the truck swerve dangerously then slam into a wall. One down, about seven or eight to go… back up on my feet, I began dashing again, trying to work out the positions of the trucks as the roared around erratically, hunting me down. I spied Maero's truck, racing around the perimeter of the arena and I growled. My target, _my kill…_ _take him out, it won't matter what happens with these other fuckwits_. I ran blindly over the dirt again, cocking my gun and snarling till another light flashed over me, followed by more gunfire. I dived quickly behind a lump of earth, cocking the second firing mode, my only grenade already loaded, and fired. It sailed out, catching in the tray at the back of the truck.

I barely had time to duck behind a concrete barrier as the truck exploded; the noise, shockwaves and debris erupting loudly in the arena over the rumbling of the other engines. I covered my head, breathing heavily and feeling my heart racing; the bright fire of the slowly burning shell lit the place up eerily, and drawing the trucks like moths to a flame. I thought for a moment I heard the clanking of the roller door but the sound was drowned out before I could identify it properly.

"_Fuck_," I snarled, scrambling up again and making another dash around the perimeter, looking for a place to duck and hopefully get a clear shot of Maero. But as I ran, there was another rumbling engine behind me, and I actually began to feel worried; how long could I keep this up?

I turned to face them, still jogging backwards and firing through the windshield as their bullets uselessly grazed my light armour. Seeing the truck suddenly swivel I knew took the driver out, but my victorious grin was short lived. The truck couldn't stop in its momentum, and it still raced towards me. I scrambled to move faster but my foot twisted over a rock in the dark and I fell to the ground, tumbling forward, and seeing the giant truck lurching towards me-

Another sudden roar and a huge purple Alaskan slammed into its side, shoving it out of the way. The air escaped my lungs with relief and I smiled up;

A purple clad figure was in the tray of the truck, steadying himself and holding up a huge gun that looked awfully familiar. With a furious roar he unleashed a huge arc of orange flames from the gun, spraying on the trucks that were closing in on us, surrounding us in a protective shield of fire. Pools of fuel landed on the hoods and windshields spreading fire over the Brotherhood trucks and some of the drivers began to panic, leaping from their vehicles. He turned the flamethrower on them, the inferno igniting over their skin as they tried to run to escape the flames, hitting the dirt and rolling around, screaming.

Johnny Gat sure knew how to make an entrance.

I got up, jogging towards the truck and clambering up into the tray, tumbling down next to Gat who grinned back at me.

"Best present ever Boss!" he reiterated, turning his attention back to his victims and I couldn't help but give a short laugh, turning and hammering on the window to Peirce who was face was scowling with determination as he drove.

"Pierce!" I shouted to get his attention, and then indicated across the arena to where Maero's truck was racing around to try and make it over to us. Pierce didn't need to be told twice.

The truck swerved, riding up onto the central mound again and circling around to catch up to Maero's truck on the level below. I took a deep breath, steadying my legs as we raced along side him and gauged the distance, slinging the rifle onto my back again and drawing out my knife. This plan wasn't crazy, surely?

I took the long leap of faith; time seemed to slow, and then suddenly rushed. The hood of Maero's monster truck raced up to greet me and I landed heavily on my front, slamming the knife down into the metal to hold on as I continued to slide and the truck continued to race forward. Suddenly I was face to face with him, a thin film of glass the only thing that separated us. Seeing his face, the fury, black and tar-like bubbled again in my veins and my fingers flexed; I wanted to rip the flesh from his very bones. I scrambled with my free hand from the gun at my thigh and yanked it out, swinging my aim towards him.

His black eyes widened for the briefest moment and he yanked the steering wheel hard when I squeezed the trigger. The truck swerved, throwing me about as I tried to hold on. I missed the shot and my arm slammed into the metal of the hood, forcing me to let go of my pistol. I saw it clatter over the hood and fall away, but I clung on harder, unwilling to let my prey go.

Then he hit the breaks. I hadn't expected it, and I suddenly slid forward off the hood, nails scraping on the paint as I tried to hold on, gripping to the top of the grill tightly and my feet still swinging a few feet from the ground. I saw Maero grin darkly and suddenly hit the gas again; I knew what he was doing and looked sharply over my shoulder, seeing the concrete wall racing towards us. No choice, had let go, toppling to the ground and rolling on the dirt under the truck.

The engine roared threateningly above me as he tried to break, still sharply crunching the front of the truck into the concrete.

_Get back up there, while he's stopped_. My instincts had never lied to me before and I let them lead me as I scrambled under the truck, turning and reaching up, jumping and grasping the rear bumper, just as he began to reverse, further and further and faster clearly looking for me. I flailed a little, pulling myself up and rolling into the tray at the back of his truck. My hands flew to the strap around my shoulders for the rif-

_Oh shit_.

It was gone; I saw the thin black shape on the dirt, it must've come off me when I rolled under the truck. The truck jolted under me and I glanced about briefly, spying the boys taking out the rest of the Maero's backup, the whole arena now brilliantly lit in the many fires Johnny had started, light dancing up the walls brilliantly, shadows dancing around me.

I must've hit my head before or something because… there was a… I was confused for a moment when I saw them, the shadows. It'll sound crazy, but I thought they had come off my skin, that they were the same shadows that had been following me and all the fire, and all the screams of people burning, the, the thick _stench_ of diesel petrol, the roaring around me or car engines… this surreal moment only lasted briefly, before I remembered where I _actually_ was, and what I was supposed to be doing.

I scowled, pulling the katana elegantly from its sheath on my back, crawling steadily forward and up onto the roof of the cab, wind whipping past me. I drew back my arms, holding the point about where the driver should be…

With a furious grunt I stabbed down into the metal, forcing the blade further. The truck suddenly swerved, riding up onto the central mound. I pulled the blade out, grinning when I saw blood over the pale metal, but it couldn't distract me for long; the truck lurched, tyres riding up onto something and my stomach rose into my mouth as the truck began to tip. I scrambled to stay upright, and then saw the thing was _really_ tipping, and not about to right itself.

No choice but to jump. I grunted again and pushed hard with my legs, the arena spinning around me as I readied to roll. The dirt raced up to my face and I twisted, curling over as I hit the hard ground, the air knocked out of my body and I tumbled safely. I don't know how long for, but eventually I thudded to a stop when I hit a concrete barrier that held back a pile of earth. The world spun around me slightly and I pushed my sore body up, kneeling on the ground and turning my gaze to the truck, blinking at it.

The whole machine was inverted, the weight of the wheels causing the cab to buckle and I could just make out Maero inside, blood running down his body and disappearing over the red and black tattoos of his torso as he coughed and blood bubbled from his mouth. I saw him fumble at his belt, dropping down heavily into the upside-down cab. He was weakened, broken, and _ready_ to be killed, and suddenly I found I salivated causing me to swallow and lick my lips. My tired legs pushed me up, bringing my body forward, enticed by the scent of his blood which was to me, the light at the end of the tunnel.

There was a rumble and a crunch of gravel as the boys pulled up nearby, Johnny jumping down from the back of the truck and Pierce slipping out from the front. They both saw Maero, but moved to me. I didn't even look at them, just reached for the pistol I knew was tucked into the waistband of Gat's jeans, drawing back the hammer and stalking up to Maero. He crawled pathetically from the cab, tumbling through the broken windshield. When my shadow fell on him he looked up, eyes burning with as much hatred as I felt for him. I drew back my foot and kicked him hard in his ugly fucking face, his blood on the toe of my boot. He grunted and spat out a tooth, and I pressed my foot down hard onto his chest, over the deep stab wound I'd gotten. He cried out and I twisted my heel a little, savouring the sound.

Eventually our eyes met again, and I levelled the muzzle of the gun to his face. The was a moment, a quiet moment, where all we could hear was the gentle rumble of his dead truck, and the soft cries and moans of the few of his lieutenants who were still alive and nursing their burns.

"Any last words?" I sneered, staring deeply into his eyes. Maero blinked back at me, with an amazing look… not _thinking_, but _knowing_ his death was seconds away, knowing everything he had was gone… something niggled at me, that maybe one day I'd be looking up at someone with the same expression. maero and I had seemed in a weird way, very much alike... Finally, he spoke, defeated.

"Go to hell."

My gunshot answered him.

The bullet landed heavily between his eyes and sprayed blood and brain on the dirt beneath him. My aim dropped, and all was still, aside from the thick pool of blood spreading from his head. The shot, right in the middle of the forehead, the same merciful kill shot I'd given to Carlos… I lost myself in non-thought.

A sudden, gentle hand on my shoulder, and I looked up to see Gat watching over me with a grim smile and I felt his expression mirrored on my own face. Instinctively I leant in against him, a slow surge of peace rising up over my body with the knowledge that it was over.

It was Pierce who indelicately broke the silence.

"So… victory drinks anyone?"

* * *

><p><strong>Letting you know now, the next chapter is absolute nonsense. ;)<strong>


	35. TwentyFour Candles

**Sorry about the late update guys, I'll be moving house in about two weeks and starting my new job so just a heads up, updates might end up being a once-a-week thing.**

**Now, I give you, SHENANIGANS!**

* * *

><p>DECEMBER 24<p>

"Okay… Dasher!" "Dancer" "Prancer" "Blitzen" "Don… Com… ah _fuck._"

This drinking game shouldn't be this hard. I tipped another shot down my throat and quickly chased it with my beer. We were at Rex's, the only bar in Stilwater that was guaranteed to be open Christmas Eve since about ninety percent of it's clientele weren't the kind to be singing carols around a fireplace. And considering neither me nor Gat really had family, it was where we found ourselves, celebrating the festive season the only way we knew how.

With vodka.

I blinked running through the names again then gasped, pointing accusingly at Gat.

"Wait a sec! It's not Blitzen! It's the other one!" I said and he cringed.

"Hoped you wouldn't notice," he said, tipping his own shot down his throat. I pushed my empty shot glass away, starting to feel my head spin. "Aight, we need a new game," Johnny said, starting to slur a little when he spoke. I twisted my lips thoughtfully.

"I only know one other drinking game," I mused, "but last time I got fucked in the first two minutes."

"Oh yeah?" Johnny asked with a wry smile, "Did you end up drinking at all?"

I snorted a surprised laugh into my beer and dropped my head to the table, smiling.

"Not sure if I want to hit you or high five you," I finally said as I looked up to him. I sighed; the bar was quiet and relatively deserted, though there were a few frat boys from the University at the pool tables, clearly the ones who hadn't wanted to go home for Christmas. Aside from that were a handful of the regulars, sitting alone, quietly drinking away whatever sorrows the festive season had brought them. Rex himself was on the bar tonight, quietly polishing a glass and watching the TV, some black and white Christmas movie was playing. I stood up.

"Gonna put on some tunes," I said, fishing for a few coins in my wallet, "Any requests?"

Gat drummed his fingers on his beer then nodded, "Only this, no caroling, no Kings of Leon."

I just nodded, meandering my way over to the currently silent juke box. The uni boys in the corner were starting to get pretty hammered and were making a lot of noise; you could always tell the ones who weren't regulars. Twisting coins in my fingers I leant against the jukebox, scanning the list of names and titles for something I liked. That's the thing about juke boxes, takes forever to find a half decent song in the mess of old radio hits.

"Hey darling," a familiar voice cooed behind me and I felt myself freeze up. Great. The guy swung drunkenly to stand next to me, leaning on the juke box and checking my song choices.

"Whoah, _Nirvana_, nice choice," he said, grinning charmingly at me. I looked him up and down as I tried to remember his name (can't even remember the guy's name, _real_ classy…) he was dressed nicely enough, and still as moderately cute as I remembered, dark Italian colouring and all. Didn't change the fact I really had no interest in continuing the acquaintance, particularly not tonight.

"You should put on some Metallica-"

"You should go back to your table guy," I said icily. If I had to hear _Enter the Sandman_ one more fucking time I'd scream.

"Whoa, hey, sorry, no disrespect baby," he said, not getting the hint. If anything he made himself more comfortable against the juke box. "Sorry honey, I didn't catch your name last time, you are…?"

"Uninterested."

He only laughed, "Cheeky one, aren't you? You know, I uh, actually play in a band-"

"Super."

"-And we got a gig coming up, I think it might be up your alley,"

I scowled. I hadn't come out looking for a fight tonight but if this guy wouldn't leave me alone I might have to send a message. What _was_ his name? E something. It started with an E… _Don't engage_, I warned myself. Flattering as it was I wasn't going to give him any line.

"Hey, how'bout some _Muse_?" he said and I blinked, spying the song as he pointed it out and quickly punching in the numbers to add it to the playlist. _Love_ Muse. He chuckled, "See? You got good taste girly,"

I rolled my eyes again – I could tell him off but this dickhead wasn't really worth my time. He went quiet after a while, just hanging around like a bad smell while I punched in other songs.

"What? Awe, _Blink 182?_ I thought you were cool girl, you're breaking my heart here! Those guys _suck!_"

Oh THAT_ DOES IT_! _No one_ disses Mark Tom and Travis in front of me! I snapped around to look at him icily and he blinked, stepping back a little.

"Liste-"

"Everything alright here?' the dark voice purred from behind me. I felt Johnny standing over me suddenly and looked up to him; his gaze was trained on the other guy (Ezio! _That_ was his name!) who'd gone a little pale seeing Gat.

"Nah, we're cool, just picking out some tunes," he said, then gave me a disgruntled look, "Didn't know the lady was spoken for."

I blinked and looked from him to Gat, and Ezio must've spied my expression.

"What? Oh she's _not_ your girlfriend?" he said coolly to Gat, giving him a drunk grin and leaning against the juke box. I felt Gat's chest rumble with a growl and the stupid guy didn't stop talking, "I guess it's no real problem for me to talk to her then. So step off." Ezio finished, taking a swig from the bottle in his hand, the arm that was slung over the juke box moving as if it was about to move around my hips. I pulled away and spoke up before Gat had a chance to kill him.

"Take the fuckin' hint; I got no interest in seeing you again. Go back to your friends." I said calmly, "You've got no idea who you're fucking with here."

Ezio snorted, his pride truly beaten and he glared at me. Huh, and I thought I'd been nice about it.

"Oh, tough shit bitch, huh?" he slurred and quick as a flash Gat had moved me out of the way and was just about chest-to-chest with the guy.

"You talk to her like that again, I'm gonna throw you a beating," Gat snarled. I blinked; I shouldn't really have been surprised by this but I didn't really want Gat picking a fight tonight. I put my hand on his arm and he relaxed back a little, looking swiftly down at me as if to ask if I was sure. Unfortunately Ezio was drunk enough to be unafraid.

"What the fuck ever. You really think I'm scared of some slanty-eyed fuck and his little goth ho?"

There was a loud crack and Ezio all but screamed when Johnny's skull crashed down onto his nose, blood spraying everywhere. Johnny shoved him hard when he stumbled and the guy fell back onto a pool table, everyone around his booing and yelling at him when their game was messed up. A few of them recognised Ezio as their buddy and looked to Johnny, who was cracking his knuckles and neck. I sighed and stretched out my shoulders when I saw the guy's friends advancing.

Bar fight it was.

"Try not to kill'em" I said lightly to Johnny. He looked disappointed but nodded, and we launched into the fray just as _Smells Like Teen Spirit_ came blasting out of the speakers. I ducked under a swing and returned it sharply with a jab of my own, turning and landing a heavy back-kick into a guy's stomach as he tried to get the drop on me from behind. Gat had started out simply but now he was pretty much throwing people. A few spectators were egging us on but most of the regulars at Rex's were just looking on with boredom from over their beer – this was nothing new to them. From the corner of my eye I could see Rex watching with a frown, edging towards where he kept his shotgun; I heard a loud shout from behind and dodged to the side, a beer bottle whistling past my head and shattering into someone else's face. Finally I was getting over fighting and not really wanting my favourite watering hole getting trashed; I'd just wanted a nice quiet night out, was that so much to ask?

I drew my gun and fired into the ceiling, and people started screaming and hitting the floor.

"Right." I shouted, levelling my gun at the frat boys, "All you motherfuckers out. _Now_." I said, and the guys started scrambling away, nursing their injuries. Johnny dominated the rest of the space, snarling at anyone who didn't move fast enough. I holstered my gun, looking over my shoulder to where Rex stood behind the bar, trying not to frown at me. I gave him an apologetic look but he just forced a smile and held up his hands, giving his head a slight shake.

"Didn't mean to trash the place," I said after a beat, then started rifling through my wallet, pulling out a few notes as I walked over to him. Rex pulled two more beers as I approached.

"Ain't no problem girl," He said, setting the glasses up in front of me as I dropped a few bills onto the counter. Enough to cover replastering the new bullet hole in the ceiling; I might be a gang leader but I wasn't a dick.

* * *

><p>Four hours later me and Gat were stumbling along through the parking lot out the front of Purgatory slipping over the ice; I probably should have felt colder but all those vodka shots had done wonders for my thermoregulation (not that I would have been able to pronounce that word). Gat slid over to me, throwing an arm over my shoulder as I started for the elevator to get inside.<p>

"Okayokay hold on, I got summin for you," he said, his words sloshing together a little. I blinked at him and let myself be led over towards the garage and he kept talking, "Before you ask, no, s'not for Christmas, it's a birthday thing."

We slipped into the side door of the garage rather than try and open the roller door. I narrowed my eyes through the darkness and fumbled blindly at the wall for the light switch, the dim fluorescent blinking on weakly, illuminating my Kenshin, Bootlegger,

"… Whoa, where's the Venom?" I said worriedly; there was a different car in its place, one covered by a really big calico blanket. Gat moved to the car and was smiling, gripping the fabric.

"Downtown loft," he informed me, "had to move it to make room for this one."

Then with a flourish worthy of David Copperfield, he threw the blanket back, the fabric sliding off the smooth metal of the vehicle beneath. I felt my jaw drop when I saw it…

"Your new car. You like it?" Johnny offered when I didn't say anything. I finally managed to choke out words.

"Holy shit Gat! It's a fucking Bezier!"

The car was beautiful. Pearlescent purple, with a black, flame-like design curling up from the front wheels; when I looked closer I could see they warped to subtly spell out 666 and I had to smile. Gat stumbled a little and leant against the car as he pulled the keys from his pocket, jangling them at me and grinning. I quickly closed the gap between us, reached out and took them.

"Seriously?" I said with a laugh, "Where did you _get_ this thing?"

"EBay."

I felt a small laugh through my grin, and I quickly opened the driver's side door, slipping into the car. It smelt wonderfully new, and the seats were so comfortable… the passenger door opened and I felt the car shift as Gat dropped in next to me.

"Man…" I breathed, running my fingers over the steering wheel, "I wanna take it for a test drive but I don't think we'd even get out of the parking lot,"

"Eh, we'll just sit for a while," Gat replied, lounging back comfortably. Then he continued after a moment, his tone uneasy, "And uh, now I got you buttered up, I should probably tell you something…"

"I don't like the sound of this,"

Gat cleared he throat, "Shaundi… may have an idea that your birthday is coming up,"

I groaned and thudded my head against the steering wheel, "Oh _shit_, Gat, _no_."

"Look, she doesn't know the actual day or anything; she just wants to show she cares," he quickly tried to placate. I breathed out, too sleepy and drunk to stay riled up.

"Well, she's gonna do what she's gonna do…" I mumbled, then shot him a sideward smile, "smart of you to give me the car first," I leant over and wrapped my arms around his neck in a hug, and after a moment felt his slide around my waist, "Thanks Gat. It's awesome," I said happily, resting my chin on his shoulder.

"Thought you might like it," he mumbled into my neck, and he ran a hand over my back comfortingly. I found myself reluctant to let go; he was warm, and smelt nice. But then, Gat wasn't a really huggy person and I didn't want to weird him out… I pulled back, though he seemed slow to release me, and I dropped back down into the driver's seat. We were quiet for a while, and I felt my eyes slipping closed; the car was warm and the seats were comfy, and I was pretty drunk. My fingers fumbled down the side of the seat, curling around the little lever; I yanked at it and the back of my seat dropped down a little. Ahh, _well_ comfy now…

"You ain't goin' to sleep there are you?" I heard Gat say as I closed my eyes.

"Yessir I am," I replied quietly. I thought I heard him chuckle, then he shifted and the car jolted a little as he dropped the back of his own seat down. There was another long silence, and I was slowly drifting to sleep, my swirling head suspended somewhere between waking and dreaming. Eventually though, I was half stirred when Gat spoke.

"… Hey, that guy back at the bar…"

I blearily opened my eyes again, just barely, turning my head to look at him. He was staring up at the roof of the car, as drunk, but not as tired as me. I stifled a yawn, trying and failing to keep my eyes open and I let them slowly slip closed again.

"Hmn?"

"You know, how he was talking all that shit… do you ever think-"

I sleepily, blindly reached my hand out and rested my fingers on his forearm.

"Thanks for having my back," I said, trying not to yawn. Translation, _shush, sleep time now_. We were quiet for a while after that but as I was drifting to sleep, I thought I heard him keep talking. I've got no idea what he had been saying; I was already halfway into a dream.

* * *

><p>DECEMBER 27<p>

The day had sort of crept up on me; I didn't think I would care too much, but after jolting awake from a really weird dream and seeing the time on the radio clock next to my bed, 10:32 I dragged my carcass (still fully dressed from the night before) into the bathroom and reluctantly flicked the light on.

I sighed heavily, staring at myself in the mirror; my self-cut and dyed hair flopped over one eye, the rest of my hair dropping well past my waist by now with tips curling a little; I'd been unable to bring myself to cut it any shorter despite the ends being forever tangled and dry. I lifted my hand, pushing the locks out of my eye, staring hard into my reflection.

It wasn't the same girl looking back at me.

It wasn't a girl at all.

"Twenty four." I murmured. I studied my features – the weird little tuft of hair that was growing out over the gash I'd gotten in that car crash. The tiny, old scar that cut through my right eyebrow from the piercing I'd gotten and lost within a single week after having it get punched out of my face. The single freckle that sat just above the sharp cupid's bow of my lip, and my eyes, once sky blue, baby blue, now starting to drift to an icy blue-grey, losing their colour, but not their vibrancy. My gaze ran down my reflection to my clothes, the faded old camisole and tired, worn jeans, the purple canvas shoe with the hole in the side. I frowned. I was dressed like a god damn sixteen year old scrub. Scowling I began pulling off the rags, kicking the shoes and pants off till I stood there in my underwear, eyes scanning the skin marked with a thousand tales of criminal adventure. The burns that warped on the back of my legs and shoulder suddenly didn't seem so ugly – the light shimmer of scar tissue here and there looked as decorative as the new tattoos that crawled over my skin.

I looked back to my face, the woman in the mirror looking back at me with a slight frown. The straight nose that I used to wish was cuter and more button-like now looked perfect on me, elegant. My jaw, which I'd always wished was narrower, looked instead feminine and defined like my high cheekbones, playing homage to the East-European side of my blood, just as my inky hair, blue eyes and skin that refused to tan pandered to my Celtic heritage.

I touched my cheeks, wiping away a panda-eye left over from sleeping in my makeup, and then ran a hand through my hair again.

"I'm _twenty four_…" I muttered again. And surprisingly, I wasn't upset. I had been when I had woken up from that coma and felt robbed of my life, like a teenager thrown kicking and screaming into a woman's body and that the only upside was having bigger boobs.

But in that small space of time, I'd grown into it. I grimaced down at the clothes on the floor, kicking them out of the way and stepping back into my room, hunting through my wardrobe, wracked with an insane desire, a wild, unprecedented urge that I had never before felt.

I wanted…

…to go shopping.

* * *

><p>"She ain't ever gonna go for this." Johnny said, striking a flame from his lighter and drawing on a cigarette, watching Shaundi with disdain as she sat with Pierce, checking things off lists, "You know she hates parties."<p>

"Yeah, well, she's not going to hate this one." Shaundi assured him. Gat just raised an eyebrow.

"And why's that?" he drawled.

"Cos, you and Pierce are going to help me pick up her present. Which she will _love_." She said with a smile to him, Pierce grinning at him.

"Huh. What you got in mind? Cos I already got her a car." He said, matter-of-factly. Pierce only blinked at him.

"You bought her a _car_?"

"_Got_ her a car," Johnny corrected with a sly grin. Shaundi chuckled.

"Never mind. Look. We've got a plan for this, but it's gonna be tricky; we'll need to take a few extras along for the drive back, I was thinking Carlos' old crew. And the target might be guarded. And… it's on the mainland." She said waving her hands and looking to Pierce. "You wanna give him the run through?" she asked, pulling out her phone to check texts. Pierce responded with a cocky laugh.

"Oh hell yeah. Johnny, you gonna love this one…"

* * *

><p>DECEMBER 28<p>

Gat's eyes narrowed as his foot pressed up on the gas, spying the bus ahead of him as the raw, frosted country landscape of the mainland whipped by him. Beside him, Jack was checking his gun nervously. Gat clicked the talkie on to get through to Pierce.

"Target in sight. You in position?" he said, increasing his speed and listening keenly.

"_Good to go. Shaundi?_"

"_The Damsels are in Distress. Let's do this boys._"

Johnny checked his rear view mirror, seeing Pierce's car close behind him. They rounded the corner onto the main stretch, catching a brief glimpse of Shaundi's car a half-mile down the road, her tiny distant figure wandering in the road, waving her hands. Ahead of them, the bus began to slow. Johnny grinned – Shaundi was dressed in the tightest of jeans and high heels, her thin parker fitted tightly to her, the hood up with a soft cap of fur surrounding her face and she was shivering dramatically as she leant against the 'broken down' car, and Tasha was sitting up on the bonnet, her long legs stretched out, languid. He'd seen pornos that had started less suggestively. He kept his speed, gaining on the slowing bus which eventually pulled to the side of the road…

Shaundi sighed dramatically, contorting her body into uncomfortably sexy positions and holding back a grin when she saw the bus slowing down, pulling over to help them, the poor, stranded women. The door opened, and the driver hopped out, a blonde haired middle aged man with a slight paunch. He took of his cap as he approached, blushing hotly.

"Scuse me ladies, you havin' some trouble?" he said with a smile. Shaundi pouted.

"Yes, we are…" she said with a sigh tossing her dreadlocks, "I just can't seem to work out what's _wrong_ with this damn car!" she cooed miserably, eyes that were hidden by sunglasses darting far down the road as the sound of the boy's Bootleggers got closer. She walked to her car, leaning in through the window to reach for her guns, wiggling her ass suggestively just as Tasha slid discreetly off the hood. "And I can't even find the _manual!_" she called out hopelessly over her shoulder as her fingers gripped around a rifle. The driver cracked his knuckles.

"Well now, let's see if I can't work out what's goin on there little missy," he said, strutting over to the car. Shaundi spared a glance over her shoulder as the first jet black car shot by, suddenly screeching to a halt and skidding around to block the narrow road.

"What the-?" was all the driver managed to get out before Gat was out of the car, yelling at him to get on the ground. Shaundi whipped herself and her gun from the window, racing over and pressing the muzzle to the back of the driver's neck.

"Stay calm honey and we won't have to put a bullet in you." She said with a smile. Gat strode past her to the bus, hopping inside, and Pierce skidded to a halt behind them, blocking the bus' path backwards. He jumped from the vehicle, striding out with a shotgun in hand just as Reece slipped into the driver's seat.

* * *

><p>"Hey, why're we stopped?" Dominic yawned, rubbing an eye as he woke up in his bunk. Chris and Matthew blinked over to him, their thumbs working away on xBox controllers that they were twisting and using to battle half-naked anime girls.<p>

"Dunno man," Chris said, glancing down the hall of the bus for the driver then flicking his attention back to the game.

Dominic stretched his frame out, looking blearily down the hall. Suddenly a figure erupted up the stairs and onto the bus – it took a moment before the men realised the stranger was carrying a _freaking rifle_.

"Holy shit!" Matt shouted, jumping up.

Johnny strode towards the trio.

"Where are your phones!" he shouted, gun pointed at the startled men, who in shock pulled their phones from their pockets. "Throw them down!" he yelled, and they carefully tossed the cells to him, glancing to each other disbelievingly. Another man clambered aboard the bus, settling himself into the steering wheel and roaring the engine back into life.

"We good to go Johnny?" Pierce yelled over his shoulder.

"Yeah." Gat shouted back quickly, turning his attention back to the others. "Now you boys listen," Gat purred darkly, taking careful steps towards the trio, "You gonna take a little detour. Don't worry; it won't be for more than a night or two, and if you do what we tell you, we won't have to _kill_ your asses and you can still make it to your New Years… whatever the fuck you do."

They blinked at him in freaky unison.

"Listen, please guy, we got famil-"

"So we understand each other. Good." Johnny said, lowering gun with a relaxed smile. "You boys got any beer? It's gonna be a bit of a ride back." He said with a smile. Matt, Chris and Dominic glanced towards one another.

"Uhh… bar fridge?" Chris said, nodding towards the narrow kitchenette.

* * *

><p>DECEMBER 29<p>

Shaundi's mouth twitched nervously with a smile as the Boss crossed her legs, staring out the window of the car as she was driven to the hideout.

"_What?_" the Boss stressed when she noticed Shaundi often smiling at her. Shaundi just chuckled, sparing her a sidewards glance.

"You actually _did_ do something with your hair," she said slyly, quite surprised at the Boss' recent transformation, to which the other woman shook my head with a sardonic smile.

"So…" she said with a sigh, eyeing Shaundi off, "It's nine, and you're taking me back to the hideout and not telling me why. Am I right to assume this will be something I'm not going to like? You know how I feel about parties."

Shaundi rolled her eyes. "Listen Sir Buzz-Killington-Smyth, it's _not_ a party, and you _will_ like this; I'll stake my life on it."

"Deal." She replied coolly. Shaundi blinked nervously at her thinking for a moment she was serious.

"You look hot tonight," she complimented, eyeing the new outfit. The other woman shrugged.

"New clothes will do that." she added dismissively, but there was something about her slight smile that indicated she was secretly drinking in the accolade. It wasn't really a new look, but a more… mature one.

The Boss gave Shaundi a dark glare as they pulled up to the hideout, hearing loud base music pounding from inside, and spying a few people making out in the parking lot.

"Shaundi…" she warned in low tone. Shaundi just quickly waved her hands.

"Please, _please_ Boss, just trust me. I staked my life on this, right?" she breathed quickly. The other woman merely narrowed her eyes, stepping out of the car regally and making her way to the elevator, turning her key to call it up. The heavy base of the music vibrated up from the floors below and the Boss rolled her eyes at Shaundi, who only patted her arm nervously. The elevator pinged open and the women stepped inside, doors sliding closed, the elevator dropping silently down into the hideout, music swelling as it did and erupting when the elevator doors parted. They walked out into the hallway towards the office, striding along to look over the staircase and banisters to the crowd below, already in the full swing of the party.

"Okay. This better get good soon," she shouted coolly over the music to be heard. Shaundi rolled her eyes, exasperated with her stubborn pessimism and started guiding her to the office where Gat and Pierce stood at the balcony, leant on the banisters and watching the party below. The both glanced up when they heard the women enter the room. Gat and Pierce froze for a moment when they saw the Boss enter, before slowly turning to greet her.

They could hardly recognise her. The long lank hair that usually flopped down around her waist was now immaculately styled, black on top but with generous chunks of purple flashing occasionally from underneath and cascading sexily down past her shoulders, framing her face perfectly. Her face, which was glowing like moonlight and elegantly made up, eyes lined in thick black makeup and lips shining with cherry gloss. Her shoes were knee high buckled boots, only inch-high heels, but that was more than she'd usually gone for, her jeans black, tight and perfectly fitted over her legs and hips, accented by a purple studded belt. Over that she wore a long black leather coat that came down to her knees, framing her figure beautifully – she slipped it off over her low-cut, fitted black top and lastly, a long, thin purple scarf, more for decoration than warmth, wrapped once around her neck and hanging down her figure.

The young woman looked to them both expectantly, oblivious to the hungry way they drew her figure in.

Shaundi spoke up first. "Happy birthday Boss," she cooed, following the leader of the Saints into the room. She tilted her head and smiled at her lieutenants.

"I thought you said this wasn't a party," she warned Shaundi, but there was a hint of curiosity in her tone.

"Well you know, she wasn't lying, not really," Pierce said with a smile, waving a hand over the balcony to the foyer below. The sofas had been pushed to the sides of the room and just off centre, a small make-shift stage had been set up. The Boss raised an eyebrow when she spied it, and the three figures who stood on it, clutching instruments and looking to each other nervously. She narrowed her eyes at them curiously, edging her way to the balcony edge, her jaw dropping slightly as she began to recognise the faces.

"…You _didn't_," she breathed, incredulous. Gat and her two lieutenants sidled up next to her, grinning at her reaction, the lights dimming for a moment at Pierce's indication.

There was the rattling of a hi-hat and with a dramatic roar from a guitar, the stage lit, and Muse struck out the opening riff to _Starlight_.

The trio grinned at their Boss, who was staring, eyes wide and mouth gaping.

"Holy shit…" she barely breathed.

"Shaundi's idea, Pierce's plan, _my_ execution,"

"Fuckoff Gat,"

Shaundi went to add something but was interrupted by the sudden, unbelievably high-pitched shriek that erupted from the Boss' throat suddenly silenced when she slammed her palms over her mouth, trying to calm down. She released her face, her mouth a tight and determined line and her hands gripped the balcony railing and she stretched up onto her toes, eyes glistening. Johnny smiled and after a moment rested his hand on the small of her back, watching as she tried to stop herself from bouncing and swaying along to the old familiar tune.

Below them the crowd was jumping and dancing enthusiastically, showing their appreciation for the band by throwing cups and bottles of beer onto the stage which Matt and Chris nervously dodged. Eventually that song drew to a close, the last echoing guitar chord sailing out over the screaming crowd. Matthew stepped up to the microphone.

"Hi!" he greeted anxiously to the purple mass, all too aware that guns probably outnumbered people in that room, "Uh, this song goes out to the Leader of the Saints, it's call 'Please Don't Kill Us' and it goes like this,"

The Boss laughed as they started playing '_Supermassive Black Hole_', but then she slowly stopped, taking a few steps back from the balcony and looking accusingly at her lieutenants.

"… Guys, _how_ did you get them to play here?" she said. The trio glanced at each other, suddenly tense.

"Uhh…" they hunted for words but the Boss had already cottoned on.

"You _kidnapped_ _MUSE_?" she shouted, her hands on her hips. They edged nervously.

"Now _kidnap_ is an ugly word," Johnny offered with a nervous smile, "I prefer the term _abduction_."

The Boss' jaw was dropped and she stared at them.

"Guys…" she said, looking incredulous, "…this is the _sweetest_ thing _anyone's_ ever done for me!" she stepped back up to her suddenly relieved lieutenants who greeted her in a huge group hug. The Boss gave a huge and happy sigh, her cheeks flushed as she pulled her family in tighter around her.

* * *

><p><strong>Why? Because it's Saint Row and I can do what I want, that's why! :)<strong>


	36. S: Voodoo and Llama Stew

**Found out some interesting things about Voodoo when I was doing some research for this chapter, though it was sadly rather difficult to find out how to actually do proper 'Left Handed Voodoo' rituals. I just sort of took a few elements and guessed the rest :)**

**Oh, and there will be a little more gore than usual in this chapter.**

* * *

><p>I got the feeling the Sons of Samedi were getting backup up against the wall. With so little territory left, so much of their market undercut, and the numbers of their crew thinning, the Sons were getting desperate. They clearly knew we were too large to keep taking on now, so they sent some other cannon fodder our way-<p>

_Junkies_. I almost had to feel a little sorry for them. They swarmed one of our warehouses like a hoard of zombies while we there, armed with crowbars, baseball bats and kitchen carving knives. Few actually had guns and fewer still with extra ammo; things that expensive could be sold for drugs. We had to clear the boxes of dust out of there and haul them back to Purgatory, fuckin' pain in the ass… clearly the Sons weren't going to go away quietly, so I decided I had to turn my attention back to them. Mr. Sunshine, the voodoo freak, and the General… after that shit they pulled, drugging me in the back of that limo, I should have torn them apart. I would have, had everything not gotten so out of control with the Brotherhood, had they not done something so much worse to me…

"Boss, you alright?" Shaundi piped up, shaking me from my wonderings. I blinked back down to her, realising I was toying with the pendants around my neck. I'd melted the ring down and had it reshaped into an ankh, the large diamond secured at its heart and it rested against the two Saints, Mary and Leonard.

"Yeah, no problem. Just thinking."

"Yeah well you look like it wouldn't hurt to crack open one of these boxes," she said with a slight smile, nudging one of them with her foot and I just smiled and shook my head. We were in the parking lot out the front of the hideout, watching the truck while some of the boys were carting the drugs safely into Purgatory.

"I think a glass of red would do me fine," I responded with a slight smile, pulling out my phone to check the time but Shaundi suddenly shouted, jumping to her feet.

"Hey!" she'd yelped, drawing her pistol and pointing over to the truck. Two smack heads had grabbed boxes and were running off with them; Shaundi let off a few rounds but missed, and I began sprinting after them on foot. They rounded the corner through the alley and towards the road, dodging the speeding traffic. Well, one of them did, the second got collected by a car, flipping through the air and cracking her head open on the road. I growled at the tweaker who was getting away and dashed out onto the road myself with my pistol drawn, easily dodging the traffic as horns blared out around me. I took quick aim and fired, the bullet slamming into his knee and he fell forward, the box of dust tumbling from his hands as I jogged up to him.

These guys weren't our clients, they'd obviously been sent by the Samedi, and with any luck, this guy would be able to help me out. I picked the box up and he writhed pathetically, trying to reach up and take it back.

"I need that!" he begged, a scrawny hand gripping the hem of my jeans. I held the box up out of his reach.

"Where's Sunshine?" I asked coldly, but his eyes were wild and unfocused.

"Gimme the dust!" he pleaded and I raised an eyebrow.

"... Fine." I dropped the box and it landed heavily on his injured knee, causing him to cry out in pain. Hey, I'd tried to be civil about it… I reiterated, "Where's Sunshine?"

He was keening, rocking back and forward and trying to cradle his injury, "What does it matter?" he croaked, "You're gonna kill me anyway!"

I scowled then with a small sigh, stepped my shoe down firmly onto his knee, and he began crying out again, "I'm in no rush," I warned him softly.

"He hangs out at the old meat packing plant!" the junkie quickly squealed and I released him. Junkies were ultimately neutral, but it was better to have them on your side if no one else's. I kicked the box of dust to him and he blinked up at me, confused.

"There," I said calmly with a shrug, "Was that so hard?"

I turned and walked away, listening to him whimper softly behind me and knowing that small tale of mercy would spread pretty fucking quick to all his tweaker buddies. One box of dust was a small price to pay for the loyalty and cooperation of every junkie in Stilwater.

* * *

><p>I dropped back to Purgatory only briefly to arm myself properly. I'd gotten on the phone to Pierce and Gat, telling them to meet me at the packing plant and letting them know the plan, but unfortunately, Shaundi overheard me.<p>

"I'm comin too!" Shaundi said the instant I'd hung up, jogging after me.

"No," I replied flatly, swinging my SMG over my back as I continued up the stairs. I barely noted there was a large crate where the old statue once was, must've been the new replacement.

"This is total bullshit," she pressed hotly, still chasing after me and I had to roll my eyes, "you can't just cut me outta the loop!"

I whirled on her sharply. I was willing to let her get away with some of the smaller things but I didn't think it would be leading to this kind of insubordination, "I can do whatever the fuck I want," I growled, "It's one of the perks of running a gang."

"Is Pierce talking shit again cos I don't care what-"

"This doesn't have anything to do with Pierce!" I snapped. I swear, I was getting sick of those two bickering all the time, Pierce constantly whining about her stealing his ideas or some shit, "If a strung out DJ took you out a crazy motherfucker like Sunshine will tear you apart. I don't have time to babysit you"

She wouldn't let up, "You won't have to babysit-"

"Stick to tactics Shaundi," I shot for the last time, glaring at her and I could tell she was abashed enough to stop now, "This conversation's over."

* * *

><p>There was little other noise in the packing plant, aside from the whirring of machinery, and the soft clucking of the black feathered roosters, tightly locked together in wire cages. Mr. Sunshine's eyes slipped closed as he slowly breathed in the smoke of the Loa Dust, his mind sinking safely in meditation as he reclined back in the old sofa. He was unsurprised when his peace was broken by the sound of hurried footsteps and shouting. He knew who it was; he knew what was coming today.<p>

"Mr. Sunshine!" the young Son called out breathlessly, bursting into the heavily graffitied section of the packing plant. Sunshine watched him wordlessly as the Son buckled over with his hands on his knees, breathing heavily.

"It's… th'Saints," he huffed, "Theywerespotted… outside… gonna… attack th'plant," he finally huffed, looking to Sunshine worriedly when the Haitian gave no real response.

Mr. Sunshine stood slowly, taking a few steps towards the altar he'd set up in the middle of the loft-like area, settling his pipe down calmly and picking up a soft, hand-stitched doll, a familiar tool, and a small vial of blood. Not just any blood… the blood of the Saints leader taken from her unconscious, drugged body when they had captured her all those weeks ago. He slowly lifted his yellow eyes to the altar before him, fingers gently caressing the vial and he slowly unscrewed the cap.

"So… Lamashtu has finally arrived," Mr Sunshine purred softly. He looked to his side to his followers, a few Samedi who practised Voodoo as opposed to just cooking drugs. They had been stretched out calmly on sofas but now watched back with dark eyes, patiently waiting for their orders, "Prepare the birds to summon Marinette Bras Cheche... one madwoman deserves another."

His eyes slipped closed slowly as the first sounds of gunfire rattled distantly through the factory.

* * *

><p>"Urgh, I think I just became a vegetarian… oh god it <em>stinks…<em>"

I groaned as I dodged through the filthy packing plant. Seriously, I think I was going to get ecoli just by breathing the air in here. There was grime all over the floor and the machine was rusty and it was way too warm in here for a place that processed raw meat. I had at one point found myself moving through a 'cool' room (using the term 'cool' loosely) filled with pigs handing from meat hooks, in the middle of being gutted. The workers who had been doing that had run off, leaving half the animals with entrails hanging from their sliced bellies, the contents of their bowls spilling onto the floor and mingling with bits of blood and flesh. Oh _fuck_ this shit…

"Wait, wait wait…" Pierce said as he jogged to keep up with me, rattling off rounds into any Samedi we saw just as I did, "_you_ have issues with seeing animals gutted? You once stabbed a guy in the _eye_ and that ain't the worst you've ever done."

I blinked over at him and scowled, "Yeah, but I wasn't going to _eat_ him after!"

I heard Gat laughing at me as we pushed through the cool room trying to figure out where the hell Sunshine was (and personally, why the hell _anyone_ would hang out at a place like this)

"Hey Boss," he called over, kicking a small pile of entrails my way, "Ever wonder where hotdogs come from?"

"Oh for fucks sake Johnny that's _disgusting!_" I whined, and was whole heartedly backed up by Pierce who'd valiantly run the other way. Gat was just shaking his head with a chuckle and keeping up as we made it out of the cool room and started up the stairs.

"Just letting you know now, you ain't ever living this down." He offered and I sighed, glancing over my shoulder at him.

"I had a feeling I wouldn't."

"Whoa, hold up there," Pierce suddenly voiced, looking out a grimy window. I halted, narrowing my eyes through the filthy glass and seeing a hoard of lime green cars pulling up outside, and I felt Gat and Pierce looking to me expectantly.

"Right, call for some backup, see if you can hold them off. I'm gonna go get Sunshine so we can get he fuck outta here and _yes_," I said pointedly at Johnny, "I'm going alone. I got this; you two keep the Sons outta here."

I turned quickly and continued jogging up the stairs, taking out the few Sons who were in my way; all junkies, either poorly armed or with shitty aim, a bit disappointing really. The thin metal grating of the platforms rattled under my feet as I ran along, weaving further into the factory, letting my instinct guide as I ran over the grate floor, finding the amount of glow paint graffiti starting to increase. There was the sound of drumming echoing through the halls, louder and louder. I knew I was getting closer, but then I heard something even stranger – a squawking, the strange foreign sound of… _chickens?_

Rounding another corner a new smell greeted me, of incense and burning candles and that half sweet, half acrid scent of burning loa dust was thick in the air, and I ran out onto the metal platform that hung over a conveyer belt on a production line. And on the level across from me, was (and I realise this is a bold statement) the most bizarre thing I've ever seen in my life.

There was an altar in the centre of an elaborately decorated area, circles and symbols drawn on the floor with what looked like sawdust or flour. Two black pig carcasses hung from meat hooks, one in each corner, throats slit and blood being caught in two large wooden bowls beneath them. The few Sons who were there seemed pretty much indifferent to me; they were either dancing around the circle, or drumming or… _ripping the black feathers off live fucking roosters_.

Well now I knew where the squawking was coming from.

In the centre of the circle, stood Mr. Sunshine, still and dark against the flickering candlelight and wildly dancing sons, a funny little plushie in his hand, arms spread wide, yellow eyes staring at the ceiling.

In hindsight, I would keep telling myself to take that shot, but I couldn't. I was frozen, transfixed by it, _drawn to it_ with my head starting to whirl with the scent of blood and incense and Loa. I jolted at a sudden shriek, and a young girl who had been dancing suddenly dropped to her knees, gurgling and screaming, the sound deep and throaty. She convulsed and the others began to congregate reverently around her – they took the screaming, half-plucked roosters and tore knives over their throats, spilling the blood into the bowls that had been hanging under the black pigs. I felt my jaw drop as they brought the bowl over to the young African woman. No, _girl_. She couldn't have been more than _fourteen_, her fluffy black hair even tied back in pigtails. She was kneeling before Mr. Sunshine now, snarling and writhing, her eyes having rolled back into her head.

I nearly hurled when I saw what they did next. The grabbed the girl's hair and pulled her head back sharply; her mouth fell open, and they began pouring a bowl of the blood into her mouth. _And she drank it_. Hungrily, like it was a bowl of melted chocolate and not a lukewarm, coagulating blood cocktail. The thick, wine-red liquid ran down the sides of her face and her neck and they brought the second bowl, pouring more of it into her, tipping it over her skin and bathing her in it when she could drink no more. She snarled, running hands over her skin and calming, her eyes still rolled back into her head.

My skin crawled and I tried to tell myself it was all a trick, hypnotism or… or _something_. Then Mr. Sunshine looked at me, eyes unblinking, and the girl knelt at his feet contorted unnaturally. Slowly, he raised the doll in his left hand, a pin in his other, holding them high above his head. When he spoke, his voice was strange and terrible, and I began to feel there was something beyond creepy fake voodoo rituals going on here.

"_Kneel before the Sons of Samedi_," he rumbled, his thin hissing voice spreading through the levels of the abattoir. And with a jolt he stuck the pin into the head of the doll.

The sudden pain in my temple caused my to yelp in surprise, but then _something_ pushed me hard from the right, or, or it pulled me from the left, I don't know but I felt myself tumbling over, my skin tingling with that same sensation you get when your foot falls asleep. Shuddering, I tired to stand up, my mind a swirling vortex as I looked over the distance to the altar. The rational part of my mind suddenly kicked into overdrive; _there's drugs in the air, it's confusing you, you must have been hit with something, pull yourself together_. But it was fighting with another whispering in my head, which spoke of darker things... The girl looked up expectantly at Mr. Sunshine who reached down to stroke her hair.

"Marinette…" he hissed softly, her head rolled to bring her gaze back to me, wiping the blood from her mouth.

This was fucking ridiculous! My head shook sharply and I pulled out my gun, narrowing my eyes at Sunshine and firing several shots, some of them striking, causing him to stumble. _Stumble?_ That motherfucker should have been on the ground!

The magic trance that had the last four dancers enchanted suddenly broke, and they turned on me, as if only just realising I was there. Suddenly, machetes were drawn, and a handful of them had pistols; I ducked behind a barrel as they started firing on me, readying my SMG and blindly swung my aim around from my cover, sending a rainstorm of bullets their way. Ducking back I swiftly reloaded, cursing quickly under my breath. When I looked around again I saw only one of the Sons was down, another tending to him, the last two reloading their weapons.

Mr. Sunshine and the girl were gone.

I snarled sharply and quickly unloaded another round into the last of the Samedi, their bodies hitting the ground, blood pools spreading into the cornflour patterns that were scattered on the floor, and I stood in the sudden silence, searching the levels. Did he _run_? Was that what the coward had done?

"Sunshine!" I called out furiously, stepping right up to the railing, but only silence greeted me, thick and heavy… then a soft creaking of metal and I flicked my gaze around quickly, trying to find its source.

I jumped back at a sudden shriek as the girl suddenly appeared before me, clambering up fast over the railing, her eyes rolling and mouth grinning ecstatically, baring her bloodied teeth. I swung my gun around to smack her hard but she seemed unaffected; she jumped on me and I grabbed her wrists tightly; some part of me didn't want to hurt her. She was only a child, younger than even _I_ was when I joined the Saints, and she was obviously… drugged or brainwashed or something. Her eyes rolled forward, deep pools of black staring into my soul, and then she shuddered as her gaze ran down my neck, and she snarled and hissed when she spied my necklace, leaning back then suddenly lunged at me, her teeth on my neck, biting down on the chain and ripping it off me.

"_Bitch!_" I shouted before I could stop myself, and she spat the necklace away, grinning with some sort of relief when it was gone. I felt stripped without it, and I hadn't realised till that point how attached I'd become to the pendants. No, I wasn't religious, I didn't believe, but it was my one gift from my lost friend, a gift he said was for protection and something made me put it on every day after that.

Which is why I stupidly let go of her wrist to reach out for them. As soon as her hand was free it was on my neck, gripping my jaw tightly; I balled up my fist, the necklace gripped tightly in my hand and started thumping her with everything I had but if I was hurting her I don't think she felt it. She was straddled over me, trying to keep me still and breathing in every breath I exhaled.

"_Lamashtu_," she whispered lovingly, her voice other worldly, "I am the one who can unchain you," she suddenly forced herself closer on me, the animal blood smearing over my skin and her tongue slipped over my jaw.

Then I… it was strange, I couldn't smell the blood anymore, only the soft, smoky incense, of burning wheat and sandalwood and Loa. She pulled back and I stared into her eyes, the blood drying over her dark skin. A shadow seemed to swirl around her or around me, seeping from the pores of my skin and I shuddered, feeling my skin slipping off my bones, my blood burning. My grip on her other wrist started softening…

I grunted, slamming my eyes shut; _get a hold of yourself!_ It was hypnotism or a weird catch of the light from all those candles or there was some sort of drug in the air, like the last time I'd met with Sunshine. I struggled against her again, trying to claw her hand away from me - I realised she was trying to rip my shirt away, and was biting and scratching me every time she got close enough to my skin. I smacked her hard across the face, and finally her attention was caught by the chain that poked out between my fingers. She hissed at me again and shied away, just enough... I gave a throaty yell and forced my feet up onto her stomach, pushing a hard kick to the girl off me and throwing her against a wall. She snarled and ran for me again but I was already on my feet, grabbing her shoulders and using her momentum to throw her a second time; she slammed hard into another wall, hitting her head and falling unconscious.

I breathed heavily, wincing as I inspected a bite mark on my shoulder and trying to get my head into gear when that sharp pain hit again and I felt my knees going weak beneath me- _the fuck was happening?_

I buckled onto all fours on the metal grate, drunkenly swerving my gaze to where Sunshine stood, having reappeared before the altar, holding the plushie above his head again. My instinct whispered to me and drowned out my logic, strangely loud, strangely human when she spoke, more than a feeling or sensation but a real voice…

_Destroy the Doll_

I scrambled for the gun I'd dropped and quickly aimed at Sunshine's hands, unleashing a rain of bullets on him. He shouted and dropped the doll, cradling his injured hands and I felt the weakness leaving me. I saw Sunshine trying clumsily to draw a gun with his broken hands, turning and trying to fire on me, but far from able to aim properly.

Okay, had to get over there to him somehow. I made a dash along the platform, clambering up onto the railing and gauging the distance… I drew a quick breath, leaping across and grabbing a chain that hung a meat hook on the level below, swinging over to the other side of the platform and let go, my stomach flying into my throat as I fell, landed and rolled as Sunshine's bullets whistled past me. Once I straightened I turned my SMG on him, rattling the last few bullets into his chest till the gun clicked, empty.

He dropped to his knees, swaying and his yellow eyes empty. I slowly got to my feet, a dark smile over my mouth and I turned, starting to walk away. Voodoo priests, yeah real fuckin scary. I paused when I heard a slight rustle though, and I felt a cold wind sucking along past my feat, though there were no open windows… Sunshine's snake-like voice whispered to me and I glanced over my shoulder.

He was getting the fuck back up? _Seriously_?

"This fight, is far from over" he rumbled. I whipped my pistol from its holster and fired at him, unloading several shots into his chest, bright splatters of blood spreading over his green and black attire. He dropped to the ground again and satisfied, I turned to leave.

He coughed and I blinked incredulously, whirling around to look at him as _he got the hell back up again_.

"You think... that will stop me?"

I rapidly slammed a new clip of ammo into my gun, marching up to him, "For fuck's sake die already!" I yelled, exasperated and unloaded every single fucking bullet into his body, his torso shredding away and body flailing as he dropped to the ground again and I stood over him, trigger finger squeezing again and again till the gun clicked, empty.

He didn't move, and his creepy yellow eyes stared vacantly at the ceiling. There was a soft, rattling gurgle as his lungs collapsed with air and blood bubbling from his chest.

I holstered my gun, and after a moment turned on my heel to walk away though a small part of me half expected him to get back up again. I'd only gone a few paces when my shoe slipped over a machete. I raised an eyebrow when I looked at it, reaching down to wrap my fingers carefully over the hilt and reminded myself of something.

_You have to destroy the head; they can't come back that way_.

I quickly closed the distance between me and Mr. Sunshine's body, lifting the machete high above my head and swung the blade down sharply onto his neck, fresh blood spurting from his throat as I pulled his head off, holding it by the dreadlocks. His jaw fell open and tongue lolled out, blood spilling from the neck and splattering onto my shoes. With a cringe I tossed it over the side of the ledge and it bounced along a conveyer belt, ready to be shipped off to a supermarket.

* * *

><p>The son grunted painfully and dropped his machete as Pierce landed a heavy kick into his stomach, turning his shotgun on him and firing close range, causing blood and brain to splatter over the filthy concrete floor. Two sudden arms were around his neck and he saw the glisten of a thin butterfly knife at his throat and he grappled at his assailant's wrist, struggling and trying to throw them off. The blade slipped in their struggle, a thin cut being made across his cheek and he grunted in pain.<p>

But then there was an angry roar behind him and he felt the attacker pried away; when he whirled around he saw Gat with his hands firmly around the Son's head, making a sharp twist and snapping his neck. The Son dropped to the ground like a ragdoll.

"Yo thanks man,' Pierce said as he gingerly put a hand to his cheek. Ah well, maybe it's make a bitchin' scar.

"Aint a problem," Gat replied, looking about the parking lot of the meat packing plant, seemingly disappointed when he realised the Samedi were cleared out. He could see some of the backup they had called still patrolling the entries and exits, others rifling through the pockets of the dead Samedi or tending to their injured friends.

"Okay," Gat said, turning back towards the plant, "Let's go find the B-"

There was a loud bang as the door to the meat packing plant flew open and the two lieutenants gaped when they saw the Boss walking out of the plant, eerily calm, if a little pale and bloodied. Her long-sleeved top was ripped, and as she got closer there were little half-moon marks on her skin, _bite marks_.

"Shit Boss,' Pierce said, walking up to her quickly as Gat shrugged off his jacket, handing it to her. She threaded her arms through quickly, nodding her thanks then lifting her chin. Pierce continued, "I'm gonna go ahead and guess that Sunshine-"

"Taken care of, we're going home," she said quickly and just brushed past them. Gat and Pierce exchanged a glance, then silently followed her to the car.

* * *

><p>Shaundi raced to greet me when we stepped back into the hideout; I was barely out of the elevator and she was hammering me with questions.<p>

"What happened? What was he like? Is that _his_ blood on you? Was he as fucked as everyone says, cos I heard he actually does like, real Voodoo shit-"

I cringed, the memory of the freaky packing plant dancing before me again, all those strange sensations replaying through my senses. I still felt weird, actually. Really unsettled or off balance, I can't quite explain it.

"I really don't want to talk about it." I said with a cringe, "This blood isn't mine but I'm pretty sure a lot of it isn't even human."

"Whoah, _what?_ Oh I should've gone _with_ you-"

"Oh ho no, you should not have been anywhere near those people, it was _fucked_." I said and I felt Johnny and Pierce exchange a glance behind me, "There was a possessed girl who was drinking pigs' blood and they kept talking about… Llama Stew or something." I mean, who the fuck eats llamas?

Shaundi blinked at me as we started down the stairs, and then mused quietly, "Weird… Lamashtu isn't Voudun, she's Assyrian. At least I think she is…"

I tilted my head thoughtfully, "Oh, so it's not a recip- You know what? I really couldn't care, I've had enough hoodoo for one day-"

I was about to continue down the stairs into the main area of the Purgatory when I realised what the hell I'd just walked past. I froze, and turned slowly to look at the place where the old broken angel statue had been, jaw dropping when I realised what had taken its place.

"…Shaundi, who the fuck is this and _what, is she doing in my hideout_?" I said loudly, staring at the statue unblinkingly. It was… it was a life size statue of a woman, floating proudly, hands out like Mother Mary. She sported glowing red horns and a long pointed tail that curled elegantly around her bare legs, and huge glowing, pale blue wings from her back. She held a pistol in each hand, was dressed in a very short skirt with the thin bands of her underwear showing up over her hips, a tiny camisole stretched over her boobs. But it was looking at the face with the large eyes, alpine nose and her head of long dark hair that made me want to throw myself down the stairs.

"Uhh... she is the uh, 'Saint of Saints,' and she… is the replacement. Statue." Shaundi said unsteadily. I glanced down at the plinth and sure enough, bright, glowing purple letters assured me.

"Shaundi…"

"Okay, it might have been _inspired_ by you-"

"Inspired?" I said lowly,

"Well, you don't have wings or horns, do you?" Shaundi said, stressing a smile and I narrowed my eyes at her.

"And I _don't dress like that_."

"Please, I _wish_ she dressed like that." Gat said casually as he turned to saunter down the stairs with Pierce who chuckled,

"Second it," he teased.

"You're both assholes," I threw over my shoulder to then, but Gat just grinned back and threw me a wink that forced me to grin. I blinked sharply back to Shaundi, "And _you_ could have talked to me about this first."

"Sorry Boss. I kinda wanted it to be a surprise. If you really don't like it, I guess we can get rid of her but-"

I sighed, waving a hand now I was over the initial shock of it. I guess I should be flattered really, I just hoped it didn't look… egotistical.

"Look, she's alright," I said with a slight mumble, turning to keep walking down the stairs and I heard Shaundi sigh with relief.

"Brings the room together?" she asked slyly and I shrugged with a small nod.

"Yeah, it does."


	37. Old Friends

**Anyone played the 'Trouble with Clones' DLC yet?**

**Anyone want to MURDER whoever wrote the story for it? :(**

* * *

><p>The suburban homes were lightly dusted with the last of the snow, patchy on the lawns which were starting to sprout green under the frost. Spring was over a month away yet, but the seasons seemed to press uncomfortably on each other.<p>

"You gonna tell me where the hell we're going?" I mumbled, staring through my reflection.

"Sure," Gat replied as he turned up the heater a little, "New Hennequet."

I was torn between curiosity and the urge to roll my eyes, "… Okay but what for?"

"I told you, you'll see when we get there," he finished. I slumped back down into the seat and watched out the window as we turned down another road. For a moment I thought we'd be heading to the beach, but he didn't take that turnoff. I sat up a little straighter when he eventually pulled up to the curb and I looked out the window seeing a huge construction site, making me raise an eyebrow.

"O-_kay_..." I said but Gat just tapped me on the shoulder.

"Other side," he said, nodding out his side of the window. I leant over him a little and saw a huge two storey house on the other side of the road, next to it was another house under construction. Gat was smiling.

"Whaddyou think?"

I raised an eyebrow, spying the board out the front with 'SOLD' stamped across it.

"You bought a house?" I asked wryly. I mean I'd started putting money into shops and safe houses, I owned a few Rim Jobs and Rusty's Needles, maybe I'd inspired him.

"Bout time, don't you think?"

"… You bought a house, in _New Hennequet_?" I said, feeling a cheeky grin starting over my face. He rolled his eyes.

"Yo fuckoff, it's a nice place." He said, sounding a little hurt, "Two seconds from the beach, seriously, the yard drops off into a cliff then there's one road between it and the sand, it'd be great in summer," he was getting more and more enthusiastic as he continued, "Got this nice paved bit out the back, the view is perfect, looks out over the ocean. Heaps of space inside too, it-"

"Okay, okay," I said with a grin and shook my head, "Come and give me the grand tour." I said, pushing the door open and stepping out of the car, turning to look at the tall house and I stuck my hands in my pockets. Gat pushed his own door open, hunching his thick jacket up over his shoulders.

"When do you settle?" I asked, staying where I was for a moment to appraise the house a little more. Not too bad, huge garage, which was good. I could probably stash one of my cars there, maybe the Venom. I noticed Gat grinning at me.

"Already done, yesterday actually."

I raised an eyebrow at him, weirdly annoyed.

"And you're only telling me about this _now_?" I asked, tilting my head.

"Ah, don't be so sensitive," he said, starting across the road towards the house. I went to walk around the car and catch up with him when a sudden chill ran up my spine that had nothing to do with the climate – Gat was still walking and called out to me over his shoulder, "Hey, you coming or wh-"

_**BOOM**_

The sound was deafening, a roar of fire and shattered glass that slammed into us and the shockwave sending our bodies flying back. I was blinded by the brilliant light and deafened by the thunder of the explosion; my body hit something hard and I slid across the ice and stone as my frame shook with the explosion; I blinked through the blinding white of my burnt retinas and barely saw Gat tumbling over the hood of the car, falling down next to me. The roar had stopped and was replaced now with a high pitched screaming, ringing in my ears. My skin was hot and sore and my eyes burned, I blinked again and again to try and lift the blinding stars that danced in front of me. I tried moving, tried crawling to Johnny but it felt like I was sluggishly moving underwater and for a brief moment I thought I was.

My senses were slow to come back; I _willed_ them back into existence.

"Johnny?" I coughed, my voice sounding far away. The ringing didn't stop but other sounds were fighting to get through to me. I blinked, shapes gaining colour and clarity, and I recognised Gat crouched and moving clumsily over the snow towards me.

"_Lil?_" he called, and we flailed for each other – I gripped his forearms, feeling a little relief; he was ok.

"You alright?" he was saying, "Talk to m-"

"I'm fine Johnny," I said, my senses aligning. I quickly tried to check him over – a thin line of blood ran from his nose and he smelt singed – he was much closer to the explosion than I was and he looked it, there were cuts from debris all over him and patches of his skin were an angry red. He was swaying a little and looked stunned, his eyes were unfocused. I put a hand against his face and tried to get him to look at me, "You alright?"

"Yeah…" he grumbled, squeezing his eyes shut, "My head broke my fall…"

Unsteadily I propped myself up further, peeking over the bonnet of the car, eyes widening at the house.

The façade was still mostly intact, but the doors and windows were blown out, fire spewing and billowing from every hole and radiating an insane heat on us. Part of the roof crumbled and caved in and I felt Johnny flinch next to me when that happened. I gaped as I began to comprehend what had happened.

"…Well," Gat said after a beat though his voice was slurred, "You think I can get the deposit back?"

Grateful for the joke, I felt myself sigh and drop down onto the snow.

"At least you still have the land, right?" I offered, rubbing my sore eyes. I heard Gat grumble and he looked away, stretching a hand out through the snow with a groan, muttering till his hands landed on something and he sat back up. He held his glasses, trying in vain to wipe the snow and ash from them. I could tell he was hurt far worse than he'd let on.

Looking up I could see cars arriving, people getting out and pointing stupidly at the house (what giant fireball? Where? Could you point it out? Oh _that_ one! … Christ I hate people), and a few neighbours seeing us and worriedly starting over. After the spectators came, the fire trucks and cops would arrive.

"We have to get outta here," I said swiftly, unsteadily getting up and leaning on the car for balance. Someone over my shoulder was shouting out to us and Gat was pulling the car door open. I scrambled over to the driver's seat, worriedly reaching for Gat when he crawled into the car; his face was contorted with pain but he waved off any help I offered and just handed me the keys. The crowd who had spied us were calling out now, some of them jogging over and I quickly jammed the keys in, roaring the engine into life and tearing the car away from the scene.

* * *

><p>"Yo can we <em>please<em> turn a light on in here?" Pierce whinged as he stumbled over something on the floor.

"No." Gat and I said in unison. I reclined back on my bed, a hand over my head and wishing the aspirin would hurry up and get rid of this damn headache and burning over my skin.

"Okay guys, no need to shout," Shaundi mumbled through the darkness of my room and I crinkled my nose.

"What? I'm not shouting," I said over the ringing in my ears.

"You kinda are-"

"Ssh! Fuck, I've got a blinder…" Gat grumbled and rolled onto his front next to me.

"Okay, okay…" Pierce said, placating the room, "Look, we can work this out. Now. Who would want Gat dead?"

We didn't need a light on in the room to see the looks we were all giving him. Pierce cleared his throat, "Okay. Dumb question. Well, who knew you were going to be there today?"

Gat rolled over again and I felt him go to sit up then think better of it, "I think the agent knew I was coming in but I don't see any sort'a connection there, they didn't even know who I was, I was careful about that."

I blinked, an idea crossing my mind. I sat up a little and turned to look at him (even though he was barely visible in the comforting darkness of the room), "What alias did you use?" I said swiftly.

"Jet," he replied. I blinked.

"That's an old one," I offered and I could sense him nodding.

"You say old, I say _established_." He said smilingly and catching my drift, "You think someone recognised it. Any old friends joined with the new gangs?"

"Even if they did I don't think it was one of the gangs," Shaundi suddenly offered.

"Whaddyou mean?" Pierce asked and I heard her mumble to herself.

"Well, no one's stood up to claim it. They mightn't have killed you two but they did manage to take out your whole house, and if it was an act of revenge or a… a declaration of war, wouldn't they be gloating? If no one steps up soon I think we can assume whoever it is doesn't want you to know who they are and they'll probably try something again."

There was a beat of silence, and Shaundi's words haunted me. What also haunted me was the fact it was an explosion, a bomb. A familiar tool. We never found out who had sent those hit men on me earlier this year and then I got so wrapped up in everything else, it kinda got pushed onto the backburner.

"Once this fuckin' headache's gone, I'm gonna track down that agent," Gat grumbled, shifting on the bed and growling, "Either one'a you two think you can get a hold of the police reports?" he growled pointedly at Shaundi and Pierce who were quick to agree. After a beat he continued.

"Boss, you wanna come with?"

I gave a long pause before answering. When I did, no one questioned me.

"… I think I got something else to chase down."

* * *

><p>I clicked my fingers softly as I walked through the darkness of the apartment – it was your standard clinical condo, dressed up with clever IKEA furniture. There was a nice hall table pressed up against the wall, a few picture frames settled on it next to a bowl of loose change and keys. I picked the photos up; a picture of Troy and two people who I guessed were his parents, a picture of Troy and his brother. A slightly older picture, a larger picture of Troy and his graduating class, all in their police uniforms. My grip tightened on the picture as I lifted it, a little anger rippling through my blood.<p>

There was a soft _snick_ and a crack appeared through the glass, right across his friends faces. I put the picture back down heavily and turned to look through the rest of the apartment. There was a small closed in balcony that he'd turned into a makeshift study, and I made my way to that, flicking open his laptop and hunting through drawers while it started up.

I figured I'd know what I was looking for when I came across it. A little black book maybe, or… some mail. I dunno. But it was just filled with the usual junk that accumulated in desks. But I was flicking through a few sheets of paper when a photo fell out from between the pages. I blinked and picked it up, something tugging at my insides when I saw it.

Us. All of us, maybe the only photo we'd ever gotten together. I remembered that day too, it was Dex's birthday and we were all at the church; the gang was actually having a barbeque in the middle of the graveyard.

The photo had been taken around Johnny's car; I was sitting up on the hood, my then scruffy hair hidden under a purple bandana, black cut off shorts showing legs yet unscarred and a baggy purple hoodie over my shoulders without my arms actually in the sleeves. Lin was next to me with her arm around my waist, sunglasses and a baseball cap covering her features to save her from being recognised in case any Rollerz or people who knew the Rollerz were skulking around, and wore a purple basketball jersey in lieu of her usual black leather halter top. Johnny was leaning against the car next to her, grinning lazily and holding up a beer in salute; he was slighter back then, his cheeks softened with a hint of puppy fat and his hair stark white at the tips rather than the colour of ash. Dex stood on the other side of me, leaning against the car, one eye shaded by that dopey purple visor. His denim jacket was discarded somewhere, showing the dark fleur-de-lys tattoo on his forearm with SAINTS in print beneath it. I remember it had taken a lot of convincing for Troy to come over and be in the photo. He'd tacked himself on, a warm smile across his face, cigarette hanging from between his lips, too-nice haircut neat and elegant. I studied my memories of him, looking back on them with new eyes. I rested my fingers over the picture, then moved them so they were blocking out Troy and Dex. Me, Lin, Johnny. We had lost Lin to the war, and Dex… Dex had just gone and abandoned us when we needed him most. I couldn't understand that… the Saints were _family_, they were _home_. Hadn't he felt that way? I thought _everyone_ had felt the same way I did but apparently it was no trouble for him to turn his back on that life as soon as he could. Bastard…

I dropped the photo, the lie that had been the winter years of my youth back into the drawer and turned back into the living room, gazing about, staring out at the view from the living room window. I jolted when I heard the rattle of keys in the door and looked over my shoulder as it swung open, and the man I was waiting for, a tired Troy Bradshaw stepped into the apartment. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw me standing there.

"Fuck!" he shouted, drawing his gun but mine was drawn just as quickly and pointed coolly between his eyes. There was a frozen moment as he edged closer into the apartment.

"Close the door Troy. I didn't come here to kill you but I will if you make me." I said calmly. Troy was studying me, never once taking his eyes off me as he kicked the door closed behind him. I appraised him myself; the years hadn't been particularly kind to Troy. He'd developed a paunch and generally looked older than he should have been, though letting his stupid moustache fill out like that hadn't helped matters.

"_Not_ here to kill me huh? You must be more forgiving than Johnny," he said, then tacked on as an afterthought, "Though that ain't hard."

His tone was surprisingly conversational, and if it weren't for the fact we still had guns pointed at each other's head anyone would think I was just an old friend who'd dropped round for a coffee.

"Not forgiving, Troy. Never forgiving. Just a little more rational, I suppose," I said. At the time, Johnny had done the right thing in trying to take out Troy and I realised if I'd been in that situation, I'd have done the same. It wasn't pleasant, but had he succeeded it would've saved most of the crew from being busted, and they might have been able to hold it together. But it was nearly four years since then. Things had changed.

Troy narrowed his eyes at me, "… You gonna lower that gun?" he mused. My aim didn't waiver.

"You'll lower yours?" I asked quietly. After a few beats, we both very slowly dropped our aim, though kept our pistols carefully in our hands.

"… You know,I _should_ kill you," Troy said with a slight shrug. I chuckled at that.

"You won't." I acknowledged, "If you kill me the city will implode, just like it did last time."

Another moment slipped by, and he began walking further into the room

"… You say you ain't here to kill me, so why _are_ you here?" he asked, reaching into the top pocket of his uniform to draw out a thin cigarette case.

I kept still, watching his every move carefully. "I need answers, Troy." I said softly.

"About the boat? Trust me, I've been trying to work out what the fuck happened there for years," he said quickly, and I raised an eyebrow in slight surprise.

"It was Julius." I said. The scars up the back of my legs and the one over my shoulder tingled when I said it.

"I know. Just never thought he'd pull that shit, not with _you_." He replied, finally holstering his gun and drawing a cigarette, quickly lighting it. Ever the chain smoker. He held out the cigarette case to me and I shook my head.

"Trying to quit. Found out they kill you." I said with a wry smile and Troy gave an old, familiar chuckle.

"Girl you could get shot in the head and survive it." He said, shaking his head and drawing slowly on the cigarette. The mood in the room had so easily shifted, for a moment we were as we had been. If it wasn't for that damn uniform he was wearing I might have thought he was still my friend.

_He's not your friend_. I reminded myself, _He's the Chief of Police, and _you_ are the most wanted criminal in the city._

"Sit down Troy," I said, indicating to the sofa. He glanced to the chair behind me.

"Ladies first," he said. There was another uneasy stand off, and I slowly stepped backwards as he moved towards the sofa, feeling the backs of my knees hit the chair. I sunk down into it slowly, not once taking my eyes away from him, propping my arms up on the rests and keeping the muzzle of my pistol trained on him at all times. By now he was settled into the sofa opposite, tense and watching me just as closely as I watched him. There was a long silence between us again and I realised I might as well start with my questions.

"I'm pretty sure you heard about the massive explosion that took out a house in New Hennequet this morning." I said bluntly.

"Not your handiwork then?" he asked, the words spilling from him in a cloud of smoke. I narrowed my eyes.

"It was bought under the name Jet Dae Kim." I said icily. Troy blinked.

"… Johnny's place huh?" he asked, drawing deeply from the cigarette, "So I'm guessing this wasn't a case of leaving the gas stove on. What, you're coming to the Police to find out who did it?" he said with a tilt of his head. I narrowed my eyes at him and he read my expression.

"… Wait, what you think _I_ did it?" he said, leaning forward abruptly. I drew back the hammer on my pistol and it clicked threateningly, "Hey!" Troy said quickly, "Get that gun offa me, alright?"

"He'd owned the place for less than a day. He was taking me there to show it off, and the house conveniently exploded just as we got there – if that bomb had gone off thirty seconds later we'd have been _inside_ that house. You're one of the only people who would have known Jet was one of his aliases, and seeing as he's already tried to kill you once, I figured you'd be the one with the motive."

"Listen," he said, taking out a second cigarette now his first was already down to the butt, stubbing it out and lighting the other right away, "I've had plenty of chances to kill Gat if I wanted to. But that's not how I operate you should _know_ that by now. _Yes_, I'd put him behind bars if I had to cos God knows it'd save a _lot_ of fuckin lives. Same goes for you. But… I couldn't kill you two."

I brushed my thumb over the cold steel of my gun; I should have been getting angry at him but I found myself feeling surprisingly pragmatic and I realised why; Troy was a cop before he was a Saint. He never really was one of us, he hadn't… _betrayed_ us, not in the way Dex and, and not like Julius had. _No Troy… I don't think I could kill you either, not yet anyway_. There was another long silence and I relaxed back into the sofa cushions a little.

"Where's Julius?" I asked softly. Troy shook his head.

"Wish I knew." He replied. I scanned his eyes – he was telling the truth, "After that boat explosion he just disappeared."

"And Dex?" I asked quickly. Troy narrowed his eyes.

"He's working for Ultor now. Thought you knew that." He said cautiously and I felt myself getting warmer.

"Yeah, I heard. But I'm having a little trouble tracking him down. Don't suppose you'd have a number I could call?" I asked sweetly, my gun still pointedly trained on him. Dex. It could have been him… _why_ I don't know, maybe he was threatened by us, but it could have been. In fact, it made more sense; Ultor was all over the property market in Stilwater he'd have had no trouble tracking down any purchases made under our old aliases. And I'd seen the Ultor security, they looked like a private army. Not hard to find contract killers in that bunch. A cold chill ran slowly up my spine when I considered the assassins who tried to take me out before.

Troy flicked some ash from his smoke, watching me sullenly. "Even if I had that information," he said quietly, "I wouldn't be giving it to you. My job is protecting and serving, I ain't risking his life, even if he does deserve it." Troy said. There was a long frozen moment between us, and after a while I felt my finger move to slide down my pistol. I could understand how Johnny would have wanted Troy killed, but looking at my old friend, I just couldn't see it. Something niggled in my heart – that he had kept that photo of us, all of us, hidden away in his home desk, hidden from prying eyes of any of his cop buddies that might have dropped by. We had been through a lot together – he was there that night Julius found me on the street and taken me into the family. Troy had been the one who'd saved my life that night, killing that VK who was going to kill _me_…

I hadn't realised how long the silence had stretched. Was he thinking the same things I was?

"… Be interesting if the media ever found out about this little meeting." I said casually with a dry smile. It wasn't meant to sound like a threat but Troy had tilted his head a little. "Don't worry," I continued with a wry grin, "I don't think I'll be telling anyone about it… Gat'd kill me if he found out I let you live."

Then Troy's shoulders shrugged with a silent laugh. "I hate to say it, I really do, but… it's good to see you," he said, then gave me a melancholy smile I couldn't help but share. I realised this was probably the last time we could ever be like this, face to face. We were the fox and the hound and it was a friendship neither one of us could let continue. His job was to hunt me. Mine was to flout him. And I knew Troy was thinking the same thing.

I stood slowly from the couch, but Troy didn't move. I kept my front to him at all times as I moved towards the door, my pistol still tight in my hand.

"I'd say good luck," I said with a smile and a shrug, "But I'm afraid that would only be to my detriment."

I was at the door. Troy was looking back at me with a sad seriousness; the smile vanished from his face. We soaked in our last look and my fingers curled around the handle behind me, carefully pushing the door open.

"Take the internal fire escape." He said steadily, "There's no camera down that way."

I only nodded as I slipped out of the apartment.

Goodbye Troy…

* * *

><p>I walked home.<p>

The freezing night air was a welcome distraction from everything that was tumbling around in my head. I wanted the General taken care of; I wanted everything cleaned up so I could focus on finding Dex and Julius and getting the answers I needed. Seeing Troy hadn't brought me as much peace of mind as I had expected, it was just bringing buried feelings to the surface. The betrayal, the desertion, it was all eating away at my insides and bringing other doubts to the surface.

As I turned the corner to the lot out the front of Purgatory my thoughts shifted, though not to anything any more pleasant. I wanted to be able to say I trusted my new crew. But the truth was there was no way I ever could, not truly; I thought I knew Troy and Dex and… and Julius. Yet Troy had been lying from the start, Dex had abandoned us, and Julius _tried to fucking kill me_.

I shook my head angrily as I stepped into the elevator; I had to stop thinking like that. Shaundi and Pierce were family now; I wasn't going to let my own bitterness ruin that. The doors pinged open and I stepped into the safety of my home, breathing in the familiar scent; this time of night the noise and music was dying down.

Walking into my room I had to smile; Gat was still on my bed, face down and splayed out in drug-addled sleep, occasionally giving a soft snore. His torso was still bare, save for the various dressings over his wounds and some bruises were starting to show up under his tattoos.

I started shrugging off my clothes, dropping them into the basket in the corner then quickly rummaged through my drawers, hunting out some old track pants and a singlet, tugging them on. Hah, _damn_ sexy. I crawled into bed next to Gat, snuggling down under the blanket with a good deal of relief; I was glad he was still there, and there was a comfort in knowing he would be. I heard him grunt and turn over, not opening his eyes but just flailing out a hand and accidentally smacking me in the face.

"Heyy…" he mumbled, "Wherryou… gone?"

I chuckled and shook my head, gingerly moving his hand, "Taking care of business. How you feeling?" I asked with a smile.

"… Gooooood," he mumbled with a sigh and making me smile broader.

"Christ Johnny, what did Shaundi give you?"

"I dunno, but whatever it is, it's working… don' feel a thing… Here, c'mere," he said, reaching out and nearly smacking me in the head again, but I managed to catch his wrist, shifting across closer and he smiled a little when he rested his arm around my shoulders.

"Thought you weren't big on hugging," I said dryly and he grunted.

"I'm big on everything right now," he said sleepily, eyes still closed. I felt myself beginning to relax feeling surprisingly grateful and reassured having him here.

"… I went to see Troy," I said quietly. He deserved to know, though I realise telling him while he was half conscious was a bit of a cheaters way out.

"That's nice…" Gat said through a deep yawn and I tried not to grin, "You manage to kill him?"

I felt a silent chuckle escape me; I should be filming this, he's pretty funny when he's doped up, "No," I replied shortly and I saw him frown, eyes still closed.

"Don't worry, you'll get'im next time." He said, rubbing my arm reassuringly for a while. I didn't want to answer him, so I mutely nodded and threw an arm over his torso, indulging myself with the embrace and letting my own eyes slip closed.

"I swear Gat," I said, feeling maudlin, "you're the only certain thing aside from death and taxes… Not that I actually pay taxes,"

His chest jolted against my cheek with a soft laugh, "And with you, death I ain't so sure of," he said, and his fingers started running softly over my arm again.

But I felt myself freezing up. For a moment, I was forgetting to breathe as it all began to dawn on me…

"'Srong? You cold?" Johnny asked, pulling the cover of the blanket up higher over my shoulders despite me quickly shaking my head. After a beat I allowed myself to look up at him; his eyes were closed, the pale red light of the alarm clock on the night stand glancing off a high cheekbone. I bit my lip and forced my eyes closed, gingerly pulling away. I couldn't afford to think like that, not about Johnny… a guy who would still be in love with my dead friend.

… Fuck my life.

* * *

><p><strong>Ah, she's finally getting there ;)<strong>


	38. S: Betrayal

**You know, one review kinda got me thinking about something… I've been really up in the air about revealing the name of the Boss, and so far have only really wanted to give hints or pieces of it; in a chapter I've had written for a while her first name is revealed in passing, only cos I felt it played nicely with the tone. I never really thought much of it because honestly, her name was never an issue for me; it was an add-on to her character and ultimately something irrelevant. ****In fact, the Boss was actually named after my friends' _two huskies_.**

**It is only by a fluke that I realised her name and several other aspects of the story were starting to line up with another slightly supernatural angle that I've only just started really toying with, so ****I'm still deciding if I want to go anywhere with it and if I do want to reveal it. It's already influencing her character and parts of the story a little, but like I said, nothing is set in stone.**

**I guess the reason I'm mentioning all of this is because I ultimately want a consensus – a yay or nay, as it were.**

**THAT BEING SAID, there should actually be enough clues in the story so far for any particularly fastidious readers to guess her first name ;)**

**Anyway. Enjoy the following chapter!**

* * *

><p><em>"Every Judas once loved a Jesus"<em>

Chad breathed heavily, his heart racing with adrenaline as he sucked in the air, made stale by the black hessian sack over his head. He whimpered; too terrified to struggle as strong hands gripped him hard around the arms and he felt himself being half dragged down a set of stairs.

_Oh fuck,_ he cried silently in his head, _Fuck! What was I thinking getting caught up in this shit? Oh Christ I should have listened to my mother! I'm not even old enough to legally drink, I don't want to die!_

"Walk, asshole," a male voice shot from beside him and he stumbled to keep his feet moving. Chad felt caught; he didn't want to die, but he also wanted to be _brave_, he wanted to prove he was worthy of being in his gang, that he was just as tough and crazy as his friends were. The trouble was he was feeling far from tough _or_ crazy right now. He was just scared.

Chad stumbled as he felt them step down a threshold and suddenly come to a stop. There was a moment of tense silence before a woman's voice greeted him, cold and frightening in the darkness.

"… Put him over there."

He was dragged again, stumbling to keep up before he was roughly shoved down onto a chair. He began to feel bindings wrapping around his ankles to the legs of the chair and instinctively struggled.

Suddenly something heavy and hard slammed into his cheek, the thud echoing in his skull and causing a sudden cry of pain to erupt from his throat; Chad whimpered, terrified and his head aching, a sharp, fiery pain over his cheek where the fabric of the bag burned his skin when he was hit. He obediently sat still, petrified by his invisible assailant as the bindings were wrapped tightly around the legs of the chair, his hands bound behind the back of it. He sensed the person stepping away and a long, torturous silence stretched out. Chad tried to keep himself still, to slow his breathing and calm down.

_Click_.

Someone softly snapped their fingers behind him, slightly to his left; Chad sharply whirled his head to the noise, his breathing getting faster and shallower, hissing through his gritted teeth. The cold female voice spoke again.

"Fascinating, isn't it, what adrenaline can do to the senses?" he heard her muse softly. He shuddered, trying hard to listen for her foot steps, the tiniest, softest padding sound circling around to his right, and edging closer. The sound of the steps began to be drowned out by a metallic rattling which Chad realised was coming from himself, his trembles shaking the cold metal chair he was strapped to. Chad tried to stop himself from whimpering as the voice began softly echoing around the room again.

"It supposedly numbs the sense of touch… helps make you impervious to pain during times of danger or physical exertion," The voice said, and Chad jolted and tried not to yelp when icy fingertips _so_ slightly touched his arm. He writhed away from it, gritting his teeth harder and trying to summon his courage. Who was this bitch? He… he was going to _kill_ her when he got out of this! Yeah! That's it, he'd make her _pay_! Chad whipped his head around to the sound of her voice when she continued.

"But that's only in some circumstances. In most cases, it _heightens_ every single sense and makes them _more_ responsive. Like blindfolding someone when you're fucking them... or in this case…"

Those cold fingertips were on the soft, delicate skin on the underside of his arm, and there was a sudden, sharp pinch – Chad cried out and sharply struggled as a knife cut through his skin, it was severing his arm, it was _agony_-

Then he was released and the scream slowly dried up in his throat; the residual pain in his arm subsided and he began to realise he hadn't been cut at all; he felt no blood trickle down his arm, nothing of the sort. He whimpered and tried to quiet his breathing when he heard other voices in the room, low mutterings, a man and a woman, a different woman than before…

"Christ, what is she doing?"

"You've never lived with a cat, have you?"

He jolted as those cold hands landed gently on his shoulders and that eerie voice was speaking lyrically by his ear.

"Now… I'm sure you understand why you're here," she said coolly, "That being, we have questions and you should have some answers. You cooperate, and we won't have to do anything too fucked up with you," on those last words the gentle grip was hardening, more and more till he began to feel another cry gurgling from his throat.

_C'mon, stay strong! Prove you're worth something!_ Chad tried to convince himself, trying to keep calm and quell his fear.

The hands were gone from his shoulders then and the foot steps walked around to his front. When the voice spoke again, it was all business.

"Where do I find the General?"

Chad shuddered; he would not give in so easily.

"I- I don't know," he said quickly.

"Now, we both know that's not true," the woman said, though her voice had developed a very cruel edge to it. Chad trembled again, ashamed of his fear and forced out something harder, something braver.

"Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you, _bitch_!" he shouted the last word, echoing around the room he was in, bouncing off the walls. Chad froze in the sudden silence that greeted him, ears straining. His attention was only briefly caught then by the sound of quick footsteps before the wind was knocked out of him as the heel of a boot slammed hard into his chest. He cried out in fear as he felt himself falling backwards, suddenly rushing to the ground, a pained howl belting out of his body when his head smacked on the cold hard floor and his hands were crushed beneath him – the pain shot up his arms and he felt certain something must have broken in his palms or fingers. The woman was on him suddenly, he could tell it was her by the lily scent of her skin. Her knee was pressing heavily onto his chest and the hessian bag over his head gripped and pulled hard across his face, squashing over his nose and mouth; there was a brief splatter of something cold and wet-

And suddenly he was drowning; the liquid poured over his head and he couldn't breathe, though he thrashed and tried to cry out but every time he did the water would jam his senses. He struggled, terrified, certain the water would be filling his lungs; his lungs, which were burning and crying out for air as he coughed and spluttered.

"_Sh-_ _shtop!_" he managed to barely beg but the water continued to thunder down. His mind was going blurry, and stars popped in and out of his eyes as he slowly began to suffocate:

Then the pouring stopped. Chad tried gasping through the soaked fabric for a breath, coughing and whimpering, trying not to sob; all he wanted was to run some drugs and make some money, how did he end up getting caught in this shit?

"We're going to try that again," the voice said, harder this time, and suddenly a hand was grappling at the bag over his head, yanking the soaked fabric up and off his face.

Chad blinked, his eyes burning in the sudden light coming from a torch that was shining in his eyes; everything else was darkness, including the two silhouettes of the faces above him. He blinked, peering through the light to try and make out the figures above him; one was a black guy with a baseball cap shading his eyes and he was holding the torch up. The other was a pale woman, dark hair framing her face and her eyes eerily blue and reflective. He shivered at the way she was staring at him, her gaze flickering down as she pulled something from her pocket, flipping out the pale blade which glinted in the torchlight. Chad began trembling as he saw the blade coming closer and closer to his face.

"Where. Is. The General?" she said coldly, her icy eyes boring into his. Chad struggled slightly to edge his face away from the blade-

"Look, I don't know, ok? No one does!" he tried; plead ignorance. The woman seemed disinterested.

"Pierce, hold his head," she said calmly as she gripped his chin with one hand. Chad felt the man grip the top of his skull, still holding the torch above his eyes. Chad looked up in terror as she slowly brought the tip of the blade down onto the centre of his forehead, pushing down hard and Chad could actually feel the slight _pop_ as she blade broke painfully through his skin and he could hear it echoing in his head when it started scraping down onto the bone beneath. Chad cried out sharply, the pain focusing in the front of his head and he felt a small trickle of blood running down over his skin.

"_I swear to God! I swear to God!_" he cried out before his words melted into formless cries; the woman pushed hard on the blade and slowly dragging it along on his head.

"Yeah well God and I aren't exactly on good terms so that really means very little to me," the woman said dryly, her brow furrowing as she tried to concentrate on what she was doing. Chad jolted and tried to twist his head but they were holding him down tightly.

"Listen, he's always in the limo, okay? Always moving, does it on purpose so no one can pinpoint him!" Chad suddenly blurted out. The blade was mercifully taken away from his skin and he gasped with a little relief though the pain on his skin and in the thin muscles of his face was blinding. The woman blinked at him, tilting her head to the side.

"He must stop somewhere," she said, and Chad was replying before he could stop himself;

"Yeah, yeah but never the same place, no one knows where… I mean, I saw his limo once outside 'Eye for an Eye' but he was only picking up Mr. Sunshine," Chad began cursing himself, but his fear and pain was causing verbal vomit, "If the General wants to see you he'll find you and you get in the limo and that's it," Chad said, breathing quickly, his head and hands aching. The two people above him exchanged glances, but it was another female's voice from the shadows that got their attention.

"The Samedi are still cooking, where's their lab?"

Chad blinked; that voice sounded weirdly familiar… like some chick Veteran Child used to date… Shaundi? He noticed the two people above him were watching him expectantly. If that was Shaundi… then from what he heard, this black guy must've been Peirce and, and the woman-

He swallowed carefully as he pieced together the descriptions he'd learnt of her. He'd heard how the Sons (particularly the Voodoo nuts in the crew who followed Mr. Sunshine) talked about this woman. They said she was inhuman, that she had 'powers' like Mr. Sunshine did. He thought that was bullshit but now, feeling her icy gaze on him he wasn't so sure.

"Well?" she asked impatiently, and Chad felt himself starting to tremble again.

"L-look, please, I, I can't te- oh _god NO! NO STOP!_" he started crying out as she sighed and brought the knife onto his head again, her carving a little quicker as she twisted the blade over his skin.

"They cook it in the rooms above a sex shop! One of the dives where they practise their Voodoo shit! It's on Second Street in the Red Light district-"

The hand was suddenly gripped in his hair, "WHAT?" the woman, the Saint's leader shouted at him, "_On our fucking turf?_ Shaundi, get onto your boys and go clear that place out," she said swiftly over Pierce's shoulder and Chad could just hear the scurrying of footsteps somewhere in the darkness. He felt sick with shame, not helped when the Saints Leader turned on him, sneering with dark satisfaction.

"You know, part of me was hoping you'd last longer," she said, delicately dangling the bloodied blade between his eyes, "I was nearly done with my little bit of art there…"

Chad could feel tears starting to well up behind his eyes. _Why?_ Why did he have to get himself involved in this? He should have listened to his mother; he should have just… stayed in school, gone straight. Maybe he could have gone and worked for his uncle, learn a trade or something. A quiet life, maybe, but one that wasn't going to involve fucking _torture_. The woman above him sighed.

"Ah, what the hell? May as well finish branding the little squealer… Pierce, you still got a good hold on him?" she asked her accomplice. The man swiftly nodded, though his eyes darted away as the woman brought the razor point of the blade onto Chad's head again. The young man's cries for mercy were ignored, as the Saint carved the last few lines of the fleur-del-lys into his flesh.

* * *

><p>It was a day before any of us could really come up with a good idea on how to catch the General. Pierce had suggested trying to lure him out or setting up a trap, but I knew the General wouldn't be that foolish, what with having so few recourses and Sons at his disposal, so it was pretty clear we'd have to hunt him down instead. It was Shaundi who came up with the plan on how to do that quickly and efficiently.<p>

A stupid, crazy fucking plan, which is how I found myself in the back of a hijacked van, slipping into a dorky looking repairman's jumpsuit which smelt like hoagies. Shaundi was next to me, tightening the restraints and gags over the two unfortunate men who we'd jacked the van from.

"You know red hair looks kinda cute on you Boss," Shaundi said as I straightened my wig, a strawberry blonde bob, "With those hipster glasses it really tops off your look."

I frowned and pushed the frames up my nose a little higher, tilting my head to wipe a thick layer of cover-up over my neck tattoo.

"So long as a station full of cops doesn't notice me, I really couldn't care less," I said coolly, turning to show my neck to her, "Covered?"

"Hold up," Shaundi said, taking the thick makeup from me and sponging it on with little soft dabs, now ignoring our half-conscious prisoners, "There. If we get in and out quick I don't think anyone will notice you. Oh and don't forget to put your piece away. Repairmen don't usually walk around waving guns."

"Okay…" I said, cracking my neck and pushing open the side door of the van, climbing out. Shaundi edged out, balancing a chunky looking laptop case in her arms and trotting along beside me.

I couldn't blame myself for being tense, but I was annoyed by it. As we walked up the steps to the front doors a few cops spilled down past us, one of them sparing me a glance and I felt the muscles in my shoulders tighten.

Shaundi was annoyingly confident beside me; maybe she was high? That thought hardly gave me any comfort, but she led the way to the front desk where the receptionist was filing through something on the computer (or maybe just playing solitaire). When she heard our approach she looked up with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Welcome to the Stilwater PD, what can I do for you?" she asked robotically. By now taking the lead in a situation was second nature to me; I tried to sound as casual as I could, but I was about three words in when I realised I had no idea what I was supposed to be saying.

"So, there's something broken, right," I said nonchalantly before my brain suddenly farted out on me and I drew a blank, "And we… we're gonna-"

"We got the call about the monitors in the traffic control room," Shaundi quickly dived in with a lazy smile and the receptionist nodded, handing out a sign-in clip board to us,

"There's always something breaking down in this place. It's on level three, go right up," she said, nodding sagely. I quickly scrawled my name down, careful to use an alias Troy didn't know. As I started away from the reception desk I could hear Shaundi speaking lowly to the receptionist.

"… Yeah, she's my cousin; it's kind of a favour to her mom…"

I tried to stop myself from gaping indignantly, instead determinedly looked ahead, avoiding eye contact with the people who brushed past me. Walking past a large cork board I had to slow a little to look at the pictures; various criminals, most of them from the gangs, though there were large spaces where I suppose some pictures were missing… I tried to imagine whose photos would have been there. Maero's? Maybe Jyunichi or Mr. Sunshine…?

My photo was plastered in the centre, an old image that was taken when I was comatose; must've been after they had been operating on me or something because my head was totally shaved and there were bandages over my skin. There were composite sketches next to it, and images taken from security footage, one of them from Poseidon's casino earlier this year. Gat's mug shot was up there too, and a few other pictures were connected to ours via red string. Pierce's mug shot was pinned near Gat's but it must have been pretty old, I hardly recognised him at first. I halted when I saw a new looking composite sketch of a young woman with dreadlocks; I casually brushed past the board when no one was looking and snatched it down. Last thing I needed was for her getting recognised right away so I scrunched the paper up and shoved it in the pocket of my jumpsuit.

I glanced over my shoulder as Shaundi trotted along to catch up to me, still cradling the heavy laptop in her arms and following me up the stairs. Third floor, third floor… As I rounded the top of the stairs I slowed again, reading the signage next to a glass door.

DETECTIVE DEPARTMENT, CHIEF OF POLICE, RECORDS.

"Boss? I think it's this way," Shaundi said lowly and I nodded at her, quickly walking along to a small control room tucked away in the corner of the third floor. It was lined with monitors, all humming softly and flickering images of streets all over Stilwater. Shaundi was quick to get to work, opening up her laptop and her fingers started racing over the keyboard. Shaundi was a lot smarter than she looked; I'd never been pretty good with math and science (not that I found math particularly hard, it was just boring as bat shit). But she was really quite canny with that stuff, anything with chemistry or computers or numbers, she could work magic with. And no one ever expects it of her.

I stood guard at the door, and felt my foot tapping impatiently; I was staring at the record room far down the other end. I had very little intention of ever breaking into the Police HQ again… Chewing my lip I glanced over my shoulder to Shaundi.

"How you going there?" I asked lowly. She was frowning a little as she worked.

"It'll be a while yet, taking a bit more effort than I expected." She said just as lowly, then started checking the cable that was connecting her laptop to theirs. I twitched and looked back to the record room.

"… Shaundi, I'll be back in a sec," I said, and started walking swiftly over before she could protest. I heard her try and urgently whisper after me, but she didn't chase.

This level was relatively deserted and I moved quickly as I could, my heart thumping a little harder than usual as my hand wrapped around the handle of the glass door. I slowly pressed it open; unlocked, no people trying to stop me. I slipped inside, glancing around; there were blocks of desks in little squares of four to one side, and though they were hidden by the walls of their cubicles I could hear one or two workers quietly tapping away at their computers, entirely disinterested in my presence. To my right there were and rows and rows of filing cabinets. A little further on the huge room continued around a corner, a small sign with and arrow spelling 'CHIEF OF POLICE".

I breathed out, glancing to the long row of filing cabinets, seeing a small computer at the end of one of the rows; I walked up to it, peering at the screen and seeing a little search box. I mightn't have known much about computers, but I knew how to Google.

I just began tapping in a few buzz words, trying to see what popped up; there was a lot on the Saints so I kept scrolling through till I started noticing things dated four years ago.

"Excuse me miss?" I jolted and looked up at the person speaking to me, a young officer, "This area is off limits,"

First instinct was to get my gun and I felt my fingers twitch for it. _No, not yet, he hasn't recognised you_. I fixed my eyes on his face confidently.

"We're here fixing the computers, I need to check the whole network," I said with poise and hoped I'd said the right words. Maybe if I started spewing shit about… mainframes and mother boards or something… I don't get computers. The officer blinked at me, frowning a little.

"Right… you're uh, signed in?" he asked and I swiftly nodded.

"Yes, got my pass right here." I said, indicating to a little laminate badge pinned at my hip. The cop nodded, giving me a small smile.

"Right, well… sorry I'll let you get back to it," he said as he turned away and for a moment I thought I was safe, before he turned around again, smiling a little awkwardly, "Look, I gotta ask, have we met before?" he said, giving me a weirdly friendly, if slightly confused smile. _Yeah, I've probably killed quite a few of your work mates_.

I smiled and shrugged awkwardly, "...Do you watch a lot of porn?"

He blinked at me, eyes widening, "Oh, um… I'll, I'll let you get back to it." He repeated, turning away and quickly leaving me alone. Hah, worked like a charm… letting out a low nervous breath I turned back to the computer, hunting through the files. One in particular caught my eye… phone records under T Bradshaw, the dates including the night of the explosion… and a filing number. There were no digital files; I guess maybe they were too old…

I was quickly moving through the cabinets then, desperately searching through the rows for the filing number, G370.01. My breathing was getting quicker then; I knew I must've been running out of time, I had to get back to Shaundi. I suddenly halted when I read a tag on a cabinet number, quickly and quietly as I could yanked it open and ran my fingers through the files, till they came across the number.

The manila folder had a few transcripts in it, and a CD. My heart began to pound as I opened the folder, but my eyes had barely drunk in the first two words of the report before a loud voice caught my attention. A voice that was all too familiar, answering someone else's-

"Yeah well if you could tell him I'll call him back-"

My body instinctively ducked when I heard Troy's voice; no disguise short of a gorilla mask would trick him, he'd see right past the cheap wig and fake glasses. I started moving quickly and lowly in a crouch through the cabinets, trying to listen for his voice and hiding.

I wasn't used to hiding; back in the day I could make myself invisible if it was called for but by now I was so used to fronting people head on… _focus, stay quiet, get back to Shaundi_ the words tumbled in my head like a soothing mantra.

As Troy's voice began disappearing I glanced around the corner; no one. Clutching the file to my chest I yanked at the zipper on my jumpsuit and shoved it down my front, then zipped it up tightly, hiding the thin folder. When I heard nothing but the soft rustlings of the few people working at their cubicles I quickly stood, keeping my head low and hurrying for the door. By the time I got back to Shaundi she was pale and quickly packing up her laptop. When she saw me her face was a mixture of relief and fury, though she wisely let the relief dominate.

"Okay, we're done," she said quickly, though she couldn't hold back _that_ well, "What the hell have you been doing?"

"Later," I said sharply and she snapped her laptop shut a little more forcibly than might have been necessary. She was swiftly by my side then, and we were doing our best to look inconspicuous as we marched through the police station. Shaundi kept her head low but my eyes were up and ears pricked, scanning for any sound of danger or Troy, the weight of the file heavy on my chest.

* * *

><p>While Shaundi and I had been pulling one of the stupidest plans either of us'd had in a while, Pierce and Gat had dutifully jacked several electronics stores across Stilwater. They were about two seconds into talking about how to set up… monitors and something-drives and who-gives-a-fuck-bytes before I gave up and marched into the hideout with Shaundi sauntering along behind me. I stopped on the platform, standing before 'my' statue, hands on hips and looking down to some of the crew below.<p>

"Alright people here's the deal," I announced loudly and everyone in the joint whipped around, freezing when they realised it was me talking. Kind of eerie, actually. I cleared my throat briefly and continued, "We got a truck full of electronic shit that I dunno how to use. I want you guys to help unload the truck and set up shop here. Once we're up and running I want someone watching these monitors _twenty-four seven_. The minute anyone sees that _fucking_ limo, I wanna know about it," I commanded, and there were a few unanimous nods, people beginning to disperse instantly to carry out my demands. As a few people brushed past me I couldn't help but look to Shaundi, my previous bravado wavering a little, "…This is gonna work right?" I asked her as we continued down the stairs against the grain of the crew. She shrugged.

"Probably."

I tired not to gape at her, "You had me break into a police station for something that would _probably_ work?" I said, incredulous. She just gave me an easy going smile, tapping me on the arm.

"Well you know I thought it would be good times." She said, turning to walk away. I felt my shoulders drop as she sashayed away.

"Thanks a lot." I said dryly, and she waved a hand over her shoulder.

"Any time Boss."

* * *

><p>It was much later that night before I looked properly at the file. Purgatory was all but deserted, save for the single Saint down in the foyer staring at the monitors, waiting to find the limo. I sat at the desk in my office, sliding one of the CDs into my laptop the screen being the only source of light. A window popped up on the monitor, asking if I wanted to open up the files. My heart quickened and I clicked the folder open. All that was in there were audio files, no names, just dates and times.<p>

Threading a headphone into my ear, I clicked the first one open. Troy's voice greeted me first, followed by the almost forgotten sound of Dex. My hair began to stand on end when the conversation spilled out into my head.

"_What's up Dex? ... I know you're a cop … The fuck you talking about? … C'mon man, who you think you're talking to? The tactics, the police station thing, the shitty haircut. You got cop written all over you … So-o, whaddya gonna do? … Nothing … What? … I'm out Troy. I got offered a job at Ultor. I'm droppin' my flags, and I'm goin straight. I just wanna make sure that we're not gonna have a problem."_

My muscles had frozen. I checked and rechecked the date of the call… nearly two weeks before the explosion, _days_ before Julius was even arrested. I felt sick; I felt a thousand horrible things at once when the extent of Dex's betrayal became so disgustingly clear to me. He hadn't just sold out to Ultor; he'd sold us _all_ out to save his own sorry hide, keeping Troy's secret so he could fuck off and let the whole fucking crew get busted? He knew all this, and he still pretended to work with us for nearly _two weeks_ after that conversation?

My chest felt tight and my hands were shaking with what was becoming raw fury. _He could have stopped it all from happening__!_ he could ahve saved the whole fucking crew, but no, he wanted to go be some fucking corporate scumbag instead!

It was an icy thought, the decision to kill Dex. But it was a certain one. After a long moment, I looked back to the file names again, seeing one dated a few days later.

"_Troy! It's me-"_ I had halted at the sound of my own voice, slightly higher and a little softer than it was now, _"-Listen, get your ass back to the Church … Why, what's up girl? … Julius' just been busted, we gotta sort this shit out. Me and Gat are on our way, see if you can get a hold of Dex …"_

I listened to the rest of the short conversation and felt like I was in a time warp, like I could reach through the computer screen and shake the poor girl from four years ago and let her know everything that was happening… instead, all I could do was click the next file open, same day, much later time. Troy's voice was again the one that greeted me first, followed by another, a ghost, a voice that made my insides turn to ice.

"_How you doin' Julius? … I was doing better before I got arrested … I wanted to talk to you about that … I bet you do … Listen, Julius, you've made some bad choices but you're a good man, lemme help you out … What do you want? … I want the Saints to be gone, okay? Now there's two ways that it can happen … You can arrest all of us-… -Or you guys can quit while you're ahead, aight? This is my investigation I can miss a few collars … What are you sayin? … Dex is outta the game, and you're in jail. If you can convince Johnny and your number two to drop their flags the Saints will fall apart and everyone goes home happy … You don't think this'll work, do you? … You think I like arresting my friends? Convince'em to quit, and I won't have to … There's no way that playa's gonna stop … Make them understand … Let's say I can, how do I know I'm going free? … I've already talked to the Mayor, Hughes is willing to give you guys pardons … … I'll see what I can do."_

Seven more times, again and again, I listened to that recording. The words repeated in my brain till I thought I could recite them all aloud and even then, I felt too upset to make anything of it.

_Would_ I have dropped my flags if Julius asked me to…?

…No. I mean, I might have been tempted. There was a time I'd have done anything for Julius, but this was insanity. He'd created the Saints, he'd given me a home and a family and I wasn't the only one. When we took apart the other gangs, when we had the whole of Stilwater in our control, I had thought everything was as it should be. There'd always be crime, there'd always be an underworld, and with only one gang in control of it life in Stilwater was more peaceful than it had been for years. Destroying the Saints would only create a vacuum (which is _exactly_ what happened) but… but just like Dex, Julius sold out hundreds of people, just to save himself…

Christ. Why hadn't Julius just talked to me about it all? I might be crazy but I'm not irrational! With tired eyes I looked back to the screen.

One more file. My hands trembled as I clicked the link open. The first thing I heard was Troy shouting at Julius.

_"What the fuck was that? … It was the only way … I said TALK not set off a goddamn bomb! … Relax Troy. The Saints are finished. Don't try to find me."_

…Silently, I pulled the headphones from my ears, and then closed the laptop, the room now engulfed in darkness.

It would be two days before I managed to get any semblance of sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay guys, I'm gonna be moving house in a couple of days, so it'll be a while before you hear from me again! Fear not though, for I shall return.<strong>

**Would love to hear your reviews on this chapter! Xoxox!**


	39. S: Mall Rats

**You can thank the Easter long weekend and the fact that NOTHING is open out here in the country that this chapter ever managed to get done. Actually, it was nice to take a break from packing, unpacking, painting, fixing, shopping, and generally every other horror that comes with moving house...**

**The other good news is that the next _two_ chapters are actually already written; in fact, they've been written for the past three months or so. So they will be up much, much sooner than this one was :)**

* * *

><p>"Okay, this is the place. Boss…? Hellooo…?"<p>

I jolted sharply out of my half-sleep state, blinking over to Shaundi in the driver's seat. She had snapped her fingers in front of my face to try and get my attention.

"You know, I got ambients if you need them. Help you sleep," she offered kindly but I just shook my head.

"Tried'm once, made me sleep walk," I said, shoving the door open and stepping out onto the pavement. Apparently when I was this stressed or upset even chemical assistance couldn't put me to sleep, only put me into a weird state of half wakefulness and I hated feeling groggy. I'd rather be wound up and cranky, at least then I could be relatively alert.

It was all this fucking waiting around; just when I thought I was closing in on Dex I found out he jumped to the other side of the country for a few weeks for work, and when I'd try and turn my focus to the Samedi it was no more fruitful. We'd had people on those monitors twenty four seven, but somehow the General was still proving to be slippery. Shaundi had tried to suggest this might be some good down time, maybe I could work on my painting or something but I was too edgy, too impatient to relax.

Shaundi stuck close by me when we walked up to the shop; it was a dodgy looking place, the front windows were grimy, distorting the flaky gold signage spelling _'Eye for an Eye'_. The displays inside were covered with a film of dust and the paint on the door and frames was a dark green, but was bubbling and peeling from years of never being properly stripped and re-done. From the outside, anyone would've thought it was abandoned or out of business, but I pushed through the door regardless, a bell chiming over my head as I did.

Inside it was no more appealing; the air was thick and musty, and had that same wheat and sandalwood scent the packing plant had (minus the smell of blood and animal fat). The only light came from the smudged front windows, and a few small candles lit up the back of the shop. It was crammed full of stuff, everything with a price tag; odd bits of furniture, crystals, candles, a stuffed raven, shelves of books with labels ranging from every occult sect under the sun, a string of shrunken heads…

"Tell me we're not staying long," Shaundi said lowly, cringing at a jar with a dead spider in it. I didn't reply; this place was actually kinda interesting, like a witch's warehouse. I walked further through the shop when I realised no one was going to greet me, threading my way down to the back. There was one door there, and I gingerly tested the handle, reaching into my back pocket for a lock pick when it didn't budge. Behind me Shaundi began fiddling with a few crystals that were on display as I began picking the lock, smiling at the satisfying click and quietly pushed the door. It opened to a short narrow hallway, a staircase leading away and curling up sharply to the right and an old curtain draped over another doorway in front of me. Well, it sounded too quiet to be the front for a crackhouse…

"Can I help you miss?"

I jolted sharply at the voice and behind me heard Shaundi drop something. There was a rustling behind the curtain and a hand pulled it back, revealing for a brief moment the room behind, dark and dimply lit by many candles in a slight circular pattern, their fiery light reflecting off an altar and some drawings over the floor.

The owner of the voice stepped around the curtain towards me, letting it drop back behind her and hiding the room again.

She was a dumpy old thing; I think maybe half Haitian, her face was a dark colour but still sprinkled with freckles and she had a wide mouth thickly covered with dark lipstick. A scarf was tied over her head and I think she was actually bald underneath, large hoop earrings dangled down by her neck and made her earlobes freakishly stretched and long. She had swathed her short, round frame in what looked like old gypsy rags, and had adorned her arms and neck with so many beads and bracelets she jangled loudly with even the slightest movement. She fixed me with a piercing gaze, even though one of her eyes was milky white with a cataract, and the other looked like it was on its way out too.

Still, when I replied I tried to look as unfazed, "That depends on you," I said coolly, but her expression didn't change, so I continued, "I hear you did some business with the Sons. One in particular-"

"I am an old woman miss, and will sell what I have to anyone I want to," she said, her voice laden with a thick Caribbean accent. She began to slowly shuffle past me, walking towards Shaundi who began edging out of her way. I took a few steps after her and then leant against an old dresser, my elbow bumping a stuffed fox. The old woman threw a look over her shoulder to me as she continued, "I am glad you are come though. Mr. Sunshine's friends used to whisper about you… not that the whole city doesn't speak about what you and your children do," she said, sparing pointed nod to Shaundi on the word 'children'. Shaundi looked disgruntled at that and folded her arms across her petite frame.

"Demonic mythology is the next shelf over." The woman finished, nodding to the bookshelf next to me. I raised an eyebrow at it, torn between feeling amused or annoyed.

"I'm not looking for stuff on demons." I warned. This old woman was no issue, and it had become pretty clear to me she just sold her freaky shit to the voodoo nuts in the Samedi. She picked up a small bundle of dried herbs from a bench, putting them to her nose briefly before shuffling around to look at me.

"Well, it's not what you're looking for, but maybe it's what you need to find." She said cryptically, though that only made me roll my eyes.

"… You know, I read something similar in a fortune cookie once," I said dryly, then glanced to the bookshelf.

"What have you got on Voodoo?" Shaundi suddenly piped up as she leant against an old wardrobe. The hunched old woman nodded sagely.

"Ah, strangely popular in this city…" she commented with a sigh, "And what is it you look for? Summoning the L'wa? Seeking immortality, or maybe raising the dead?"

"Yeah, all entirely feasible." I couldn't help but drawl, "That shit's all mind tricks, you know that? Hypnotism and drugs and stuff."

The hag fixed me with that milky eye again, her mouth widening with annoyance, "So why do you seek to study what you are already so certain of?" she asked lowly. I tilted my head, feeling a faint smile tug at my lips.

"… Know thy enemy… if I'm gonna have these people pulling any more of their freaky voodoo shit again I'd like to be a little less surprised," I said and made the old woman chuckle quietly to herself. I looked to the bookshelves, a different curiosity getting the better of me, "Okay, so you know about this stuff… who's Marinette Brass… something…"

"Marinette Bras Cheche?" She asked sharply and I nodded swiftly. The woman dropped the herbs onto the counter sharply, with a frown, "She is a malevolent L'wa, said to have once been a priestess."

"And llama-stew?" I asked. Shaundi snorted and shook her head and I gave her a dark look. She just picked up a jar with a preserved snake in it, trying to look indifferent.

"Ah," the old woman breathed with a smile, looking at me knowingly. She shuffled past me to the book shelf, reaching out an old, knobbly hand, dragging her fingertips over the spines of the books. "Lamashtu was a Mesopotamian lilitu figure, which are essentially demon night goddesses that attack children, pregnant mothers and feed on the blood and bones of men."

"Badass." I said nodding approvingly. Anyone wants to compare me to _that_ they're welcome to.

"…Y-yes," the old woman said, raising an eyebrow, "I'm sure when the Ancient civilisations scribed the epics of Adam's first wife it was with the dearest hope that the demoness be considered 'badass'."

Shaundi spoke up with a small laugh, "Well, mission accomplished."

"This book is the most comprehensive in demon mythology," she said, handing me the thin hardback volume, "aaand… this one is a very interesting text on Voodoo magic you should find accessible."

I sighed again, flipping open the book. It had that nice smell to it, the kind that only really old books have, "Like I said it's all mind tricks, not magic."

"The mind is a powerful thing," she said sagely, beginning to shuffle away, "And just because you cannot understand something doesn't mean it's not real… your friend's tattoo for instance," she said, suddenly whirling on Shaundi who looked up like a deer in the spotlight, "The nautical star on your hand – you believe the symbol can channel the wisdom of someone you've lost to guide your actions."

Shaundi' jaw dropped and she looked a little freaked, then flat out angry. She gave me a pointed look, folding her arms again around her and hiding the tattoo on the back of her hand. I began to feel uneasy then; Shaundi had only mentioned once before that her dad had been a navigator for a small commercial shipping company, spending most of her life out at sea; like me she didn't talk much about her history. Suddenly the old woman had whirled on me,

"Or your necklace. It has a power of its own because of your belief in it; and your belief is a powerful tool, miss," she said carefully and I narrowed my eyes at her. She was just pulling the same John Edwards crap any 'psychic' did.

"It was just a gift from a friend." I replied flatly. Her eyes suddenly softened sadly at me and she sighed, starting to fiddle with a few of her wares, fixing up a little display of crystals.

"The one from the newspaper…?" she asked sadly, "A tragic story, I sensed he was a sweet boy… But he gave it to you for protection, didn't he? It's leaving a mark in your aura,"

Her alluding to Carlos had rubbed me up the wrong way making my patience suddenly run dry, "Oh chrissakes, don't start on that," I snapped, "Convincing me about your hocus pocus shit is an exercise in futility."

She sighed and nodded, "Of course. You came here for answers… Things you need to understand about Mr. Sunshine…?" she asked, wandering away and rustling through a pile of her wares, pulling out a half-made doll that looked a lot like the one Sunshine'd had. It was interesting, for such an old woman who was clearly riddled with arthritis she was almost always moving, always doing something. She continued, her tone a little more business like, "Sunshine practised the left handed magic, it gave him power, but I suppose you have forces in your control that are far greater than his,"

"Yeah, they're called guns," I said with a wry grin, and I heard Shaundi chuckle as she began inspecting through the rest of the shop and wandering towards the back. I continued, "Can really fuck people up, y'know?"

"Yes…" the woman mused with a sardonic smile, refusing to look at me, "And… _how_ many bullets did it take for you to _fuck him up_?"

"Who's that?" Shaundi suddenly said, then made a short dash for the door behind me. I turned and followed, seeing Shaundi had stopped halfway up the stairs, her hand on the butt of her gun when she spied a small black girl in a white cheesecloth dress-

"Shaundi wait," I said quickly when I recognised her. It was that same kid from the packing plant. The girl had suddenly dropped to her knees at the top of the stairs, gripping the railing and looking back at Shaundi fearfully. The girl had that confused, wide-eyed look about her, one I'd seen a thousand times before, the look of trauma. When her gaze fell on me her eyes widened and she started shaking. Poor kid had clearly got in over her head.

There were soft shuffling footsteps behind me, and the old woman spoke up again, "… My grand daughter. I should thank you for not killing her; I know few are ever that fortunate when they cross you… and for taking away the influence of the Sons of Samedi, you've saved her in more ways than one," I turned to look at her archly, and she was smiling at me softly, and then waved a finger before my nose, her smile beginning to broaden when she spoke and showed many gold fillings in her teeth, "And you know, one spared life deserves another. You saved the life of someone very dear to me and I believe I have the power to return the favour."

I tried to not make the rolling of my eyes too pointed. How nice for her, batty old gypsy…

"… Boss?" Shaundi piped up. I glanced from her to the girl, who was still staring at me.

"Don't worry about the kid," I said as my phone started ringing, "She's not gonna do shit." I pulled my phone out, blinking at the number and quickly answering it.

"Gat?" I greeted swiftly, and his dark voice rumbled back as quickly. Beside me, the old woman had lit a small bunch of herbs, making them smoke, though not actually catch fire.

"_They found it."_

My heart leapt into my throat and I began quickly beckoning to Shaundi. "The limo? Where?"

"_North island, looked like they're headed towards Rounds Square, already got Pierce on the bus,"_

"Good- argh, hold on a sec," I said, cringing away when I realised the old woman was waving the smoking herbs about my heard, warbling some sort of stupid incantation,

"Okay, we're gonna go, cos you're a freak." I said flatly, nodding sharply to Shaundi and starting to stride out of the shop. The old woman laughed and called after me,

"I'll assume asking you to pay for those books is also an exercise in futility?"

I stopped in the doorway, turning to glare at her, "After listening to all your shit, I'm pretty sure I _paid_ for these books."

We stepped out quickly into the daylight and I cringed at it; must've been darker in that little shop than I'd realised… I quickly put the phone back to my ear when I remembered Gat was still on the other end.

"_Yo! You still there?"_

"Yeah, sorry. Do we know what side he'll be on?"

"_He's heading there from the East, looks like he'll be headed down Bourke street."_

"Then that's where we'll set up the drop," I said, yanking open the driver's side door of Shaundi's car, "I'll meet you there, get onto Pierce, make sure he and the boys are in position – oh, I've only got a TK on me, think you could bring my rifle?"

"_No problem, I'll see you there."_

We hung up simultaneously, and I looked impatiently to Shaundi as I threw the two books into the back seat of her car.

"You got anything else than that pistol?" I asked impatiently. I had habitually brought along an SMG which lay in the back seat but didn't have anything else. Shaundi bit her lip and nodded,

"Got a shotgun in the trunk… what, you're actually taking me along?" she asked with raised eyebrows and I shrugged, roaring the engine into life and tearing away to the north.

"Yeah well you're here and I don't have time to take you home." I said as I swerved through the traffic.

"Thanks... I guess," Shaundi mumbled, starting to check her gun.

* * *

><p>Mere minutes later and we were crouched on the wide balcony at the top of the stairs that lead to the large courtyard at the front of the mall. I was on the phone to the Saint who was on the monitors; the General's movements were steady, but I was a little anxious; Gat wasn't there yet, and though Shaundi and I had plenty of backup hiding in the wings, I wasn't sure we'd have enough ammo. That and I was infinitely more confident knowing when Johnny had my back.<p>

"Here he comes, get ready!" Shaundi called over to me quickly and I whipped the phone away from my ear, crouching low and readying my SMG. I let myself spare a look to Shaundi briefly; she was glaring down at the convoy of cars, lime green Comptons guarding the huge black and green limo. She didn't look nervous, I was glad to say; maybe she wouldn't do so badly this time.

* * *

><p>The General closed his eyes and twirled his cigar slowly, a soft frown over his smooth features. He tried to let the soft humming of the limo sooth him, but nothing could push the thoughts from his mind, the image of his friend's mutilated, decapitated body.<p>

His faithful lieutenant, his dearest and oldest friend… he tried to be pragmatic about it. This was the life of gang ware fare, he and his Sons had done things equally wicked, and his friend had done things just as twisted…

It still stung. A burning pain that compounded upon his own failure; when the Saints had consumed the other gangs he knew it was because they were driven by personal vendettas and like any empire, they refused to stop growing, instead consuming every inch of the city, including his business.

Perhaps he should have struck a deal with them from the start, from the moment he realised they'd conquered the whole North Island? His teeth gritted sharply as his pride began to burn against such a thought. It was that _woman_. That classless… what was the word? _Punk_, with such an inflated sense of entitlement. He might have conceded to loose a fight to a man like Kazuo Akuji, but to this mad little piece of _scum_? No. He should have killed her when he had the chance!

There was a crackling snap as his cigar was crushed between angry fingers. He sighed, opening his eyes to the green pile of the carpeted floor, and then the faces of his two newly appointed lieutenants, who sat in grave silence. Everything they'd had, everything they'd worked for… all to be bested by… by _that_ vile little creature. If he could kill her, if he could crush that cockroach, and all her vermin, then there was a chance, a small chance that all was not lost and he could prove to the last of his Sons that she was as human as the rest of them.

He stubbed out the cigar bitterly and went to take another from his pocket, a silent attendant pulling out a lighter and leaning forward to him.

There was a sudden roar and the loud crashing of metal and glass, and the people inside the limo shouted as they were thrown to the side, the large vehicle rattling violently as it was pushed along sidewards. The General spilled hard against a cracked window, feeling his body ach with every impact and cut from the crash. Just as suddenly it stopped, the limo around them gently creaking, and outside, gunfire began to erupt.

The General quickly pulled out his phone and gave an uncharacteristic snarl. So this was it then… he clicked a number on speed dial, speaking as soon as it was answered.

"They've attacked," he voiced deeply down the line, his tone still somehow steady and smooth, "bring the weapon to Rounds Square."

* * *

><p>"It's no use that thing is built like a tank!" Shaundi shouted over to me as I rattled a spray of bullets over the limo. Peirce was already jumping out of the huge bus he'd used to ram the limo off the road, and his crew were spilling out after him. Around the other side of the bus I barely spied Gat's car pulling up, grinning when I was him jump out of the driver's side door, looking around sharply past the Sons as he began to fire into the swarm of green. From my vantage point I could see a few more of my Saints springing from the wood work, pulling the lieutenants from the lime green convertibles and starting to take them apart. Wouldn't be long before whatever leftover backup they had began to arrive…<p>

"C'mon," I called out to Shaundi as I ran down the stairs and into the fray. Two guys crawled from the limo, neither of them the General and for a moment I was worried he wouldn't be there. I raised my gun and unleashed a spray of bulleted into them, their bodies jerking violently as they fell to the ground.

A sudden, heavy something whacked me across the back, pounding a shout out of my lungs as I fell forward, landing hard onto the concrete. I quickly rolled over, readying my gun and pulled the trigger which to my horror only clicked, empty, just as my eyes met with the business end of a shot gun. I swallowed – in my memory that half second would stretch out, the cold sweat from realising an impending death so clearly stained into my mind.

There was a loud _bang_ and my eyes slammed shut as I was splattered with something warm, wet and lumpy. It was a moment before I realised I was actually still alive, the body of the partially decapitated Son toppling down next to me.

"You okay Boss?"

My jaw actually dropped a little when I saw Shaundi standing over me, smoking shotgun in her arms and a look of pure concern over her face. A small dry laugh bubbled from my lungs; my ego took a backseat to my pride in her. And admittedly, my gratitude.

"No problem," I replied, jumping quickly to my feet as my hands grappled with my last spare clip as I reloaded my gun. In the corner of my eyes there was a flash of white and I blinked, seeing the General making a dash for the Mall. I tried to turn my gun onto him but missed – he was already inside. Fan-fucking-tastic.

"Okay, we gotta get to Johnny, he'll have more ammo for us," I said breathlessly and Shaundi nodded sharply. We made a low dash towards the bus, bullets whistling over our heads and the sound of the battle filling our ears. I didn't bother running around the bus (c'mon, who would?) so I dropped to the ground, rolling along underneath it and glanced only once over my shoulder to see Shaundi dropping to commando-crawl after me. I crawled out from under the bus, blinking ahead to where Gat was crouched behind his open car door, firing through the open window.

I made a low dash to the car, tapping him on the shoulder, "Hey, you got my rifle?" I shouted loudly over the gunfire and he glanced at me then did a horrified double take.

"Jesus! What the fuck happened to you?" he shouted, nearly dropping his gun and reaching out to put a hand on my shoulder, inspecting me. I waved it off,

"I'm fine," I said swiftly, "Shaundi just made a head explode on me,"

The shocked expression melted away and he blinked from me to Shaundi, who had joined us and wore a proud smile.

"Huh. Not bad kid," he nodded approvingly to her and I smiled, about to clamber into the car for my gun before Gat yanked me away.

"No you don't! Just got it detailed," he said sharply, climbing in for me and starting to hand weapons and ammo out to us. I grinned and cradled my rifle lovingly when he passed it out to me, the gun heavy with ammunition and small grenades ready to be launched. Shaundi strapped a belt of ammo around her hips.

"Okay," I said swiftly as Gat slipped out of the front seat, and like Shaundi watched me expectantly for direction, "The General headed inside. You and the boys keep any of those Samedi from following us in, call one of the crews to go check out the other entrances to the Mall."

Gat didn't look pleased, "You sure-?" he said quickly, a hand on my shoulder, "Peirce can cover out here, I'd rather-"

"I'm sure Johnny. It's just the General in the _Mall_, what's he gonna do? Hit me with a mannequin?" I said dryly but he didn't look any more relived. For a moment his grip tightened on my shoulder and I felt a little bad. Yeah, I'd rather have him heading in with me as well, but I had to be pragmatic; he was needed out here more than in a mall where our only resistance would be a handful of Samedi and a few pudgy mall cops.

"Okay," he said flatly, readying his gun to give us cover fire. I glanced over my shoulder to Shaundi who nodded sharply, then as Gat began rattling off rounds we made a quick run for the small foyer that would lead us into the mall.

* * *

><p>Rounds Square was a little deserted, but it was still huge. It wasn't till I saw a few guards on quad bikes thundering towards something that I guessed where the General was.<p>

"C'mon," I said, running ahead of Shaundi and she jogged to keep up.

"You hear that?" she called out ahead of me as the sound of screeching tyres and screams thundered down from the end of the mall. I nodded breathlessly and swore when I saw a Samedi car come crashing through into the mall, followed by a small flood of their soldiers.

"Shaundi, get cover!" I shouted quickly and we both dived to the sides behind tall marble pylons as they began rattling a storm of bullets in our direction. I carefully peeked out form my cover, gauging the distance between me and the crowd of Sons. Shaundi had turned her gun around the side of the pylon and was firing blindly, it would hopefully give me enough cover, but for what I was planning I'd need time to take more careful aim-

I checked the small grenade in the launcher, and in my mind made the estimate – there was a brief lull in the noise of the gunfire while they reloaded and I seized the moment, jutting out from behind my cover, carefully raising my gun, and firing the grenade. It wasn't like shooting bullets; the grenades were slower and you had to get the trajectory right if you wanted it to reach its target. The grenade smoked and sailed gracefully towards the mob; I jumped back behind my cover as I heard them scream and shout, the explosion suddenly echoing through the mall. I glanced over to Shaundi and nodded sharply, and we both sprung into action again, racing down to the other end of the mall, raising our aim to the few survivors of the grenade attack. We'd made it to the other end, a space dominated by a large fountain (and now also the smoking flaming debris of a car and bodies), but there was still no sign of the General, only his lackeys straggling in.

Shaundi was doing pretty well, I had to say. She didn't seem scared at all, particularly when she started calling out to me; "Nice shot Bo- oh hey, _Supré_ is having a sale-"

"FOCUS Shaundi!" I shouted back and she quickly called out an apology, firing into another Son. I growled as my phone started ringing and I clumsily yanked it from my pocket as I continued to fire, crouching low near the fountain.

"What?" I said sharply, and Pierce's voice greeted me

"_Boss! I'm at the lot entrance, listen, you gotta grab Shaundi and get outta there, the General's got a-"_

A loud roar of an engine echoed through the mall and I froze, looking up at the screeching of tyres that echoed from the circular balcony above; with another roar and shattering of glass, a huge camouflaged truck, a 'Bulldog', burst forth from the balcony, sailing down, its shadow engulfing me. I sprung sharply to the side, rolling out of the way as the huge tyres slammed down onto the marble, and a deafening rattle began to erupt, the sound of a machine gun.

I crammed my phone back into my pocket, racing for cover and desperately looking around for Shaundi. Shit! I'd been expecting the General and a few of his goons to have been hiding out in _Let's Pretend_ or something, not to bring a fucking military truck into a god damn mall! Through the windscreen I could spy the General, his suit still stark and white and his expression eerily collected. Instinctively I began firing on the truck, trying to draw their attention lest they find Shaundi before me. The guy with the machine gun whirled around and began shooting, but my bullets found him first, and he jolted as he collapsed into the tray. The truck roared and lurched, speeding away down through the hall.

"_Fuck!_" I couldn't help but shout with frustration. Dammit, _where the hell_ did he get that thing? I blinked around the fountain worriedly, "Shaundi!" I called out. There was a soft rumble of a much smaller engine behind to me and I turned sharply, seeing Shaundi astride a small Mall-cop quad bike. I raised an eyebrow disbelievingly.

"Get on!" Shaundi called out with a lazy grin, and with a resigned shake of my head, I jumped onto the back of the quaddie, one arm around her waist and the other trying to aim my gun as she began speeding away.

"Nice ride, huh?" She said over her shoulder, "Put some spinners on it, whaddya think?"

"I think Peirce said the same thing about a golf cart once," I said back with a short laugh. Shaundi blinked awkwardly at that then swerved sharply around a corner, bringing the General's truck back into sight. I gripped the seat harder with my legs, bringing both hands up to hold my rifle and aim ahead for the huge military truck. I could see the General's passenger trying to climb out of the window and into the back of the truck to man the machine gun, and I let a barrage of bullets loose on him, gritting my teeth sharply. The bullets might have taken him out; he dropped to the ground and rolled under one of the thick rear tyres of the truck, but as for the Bulldog itself I might as well have been throwing paintballs at it. No, I'd need to use something with a lot more _oomph_…

"Take me the next level up!" I said and Shaundi mutely nodded, turning us around another corner after the truck and aiming for one of the curved, sweeping staircases. The bike jolted awkwardly up the stairs and hopping onto the level above and again I gripped the seat with only my legs, then took a slow breath, aiming down from the balcony and checking the last grenade I had…

"Keep it steady, and get ready to jump," I warned to Shaundi, and then carefully I squeezed the trigger.

The grenade shot forward and for the briefest moment I thought I'd miss, but the small thing managed to _just_ catch in the tray of the truck, exploding on impact and rattling us both – the fire rocketed up and Shaundi yelped out when the shockwave slammed into us, sending us and the quad bike flying to the side; we both jumped, rolling along the ground; my ears were ringing in the sudden silence, and I looked up blearily to where Shaundi had fallen. She was slowly getting up to her knees, then made a stumbling run towards the edge of the balcony, looking down through the smoke. I stood slowly, wincing at a few bumps and bruises I'd accumulated, leading the way towards the nearest set of stairs to get down there and inspect my work, and hopefully confirm a few deaths.

The back of the huge truck was completely blown away, the front half having slammed into a tall marble pylon. It smoked softly, parts of it still on fire, the front crumpled in and windshield shattered where the General had crashed through, and spray of glass leading to where he lay on the sold white floor of the mall. Shaundi and I walked over slowly; as I approached, I carefully nudged the body with my boot, pushing him over onto his back. The man's face was empty and expressionless, his eyes staring vacantly into the void, his jaw slack. I realised by the way his head rolled awkwardly when I moved him that his neck was broken, possibly from the way that he'd fallen.

"Is he dead?" Shaundi asked dispassionately. I knelt down, blinking into his vacant black eyes for a moment, then reached into his top pocket when I spied a fine cigar hidden away there. I drew it out; I'd been pretty damn good with not smoking lately, but this felt like a good time to reward myself with a victory puff.

"Got a light?" I asked my lieutenant as I straightened. She flicked a lighter from her pocket, holding it out to my cigar and I gently puffed a cloud of smoke into my mouth, allowing it to swirl over my tongue.

"That's it huh?" she asked with a small sigh. I raised an eyebrow at her, gently blowing out a thick plume.

"Seeing as we stole their drugs, cornered the Loa Dust market, took their territory and killed their leader, I'm pretty sure the Sons are fucked." I said dryly, drawing again on the cigar. I really didn't feel too hyped at that moment; I felt relieved more than anything, like I could finally cross these low-life voodoo bangers of my list and focus on something that was actually important.

"So, how did I do?" Shaundi pressed, shaking me from my thoughts. I felt a slight shrug lift through my shoulders.

"Well, he's dead and you're not," I offered, "So I'd say pretty god damn good."

"So you think I could take Gat?" she suddenly asked, nudging me a little excitedly. I gave her an incredulous look.

"Not on your fucking life."

She seemed a little disappointed, then added after a beat, "What about Pierce?"

Hmn. I shrugged, "Probably not."

"... Veteran Child?" she tried one last time.

"Seeing as he's dead," I said coolly and trying not to grin teasingly at her, "You could probably kick his ass."

I flicked the half smoked cigar onto the cadaver in front of me and turned on my heel, Shaundi sighing and following me, grumbling,

"You're an asshole."

* * *

><p><strong>I'm glad I managed to get that chapter out of the way. It wasn't too inspired, but I'm a little excited about the next two :)<strong>


	40. Tonight, Tonight

**I couldn't wait. This chapter has been ready to go for MONTHS so, fuckit, here it is. Now I can get focus on the Boss ripping Ultor a new asshole and taking apart Dex and Julius! Yay! Also I've come to a decision on the whole 'name' issue, a compromise if you will. Anyway. Enjoy:**

* * *

><p>Shaundi and I strolled out of the shopping mall just as the cops started pouring into the car park around the other side. She strutted away next to me, chin held high.<p>

"So, we celebratin' tonight or what?" she said with husky, laid-back tones.

"Huh?"

"He_llo_, this calls for a party doesn't it? You said yourself the Samedi are fucked." She turned to face me, keeping up with my paces by strolling backwards, a broad, lazy smile grazing softly over her pretty face, "We _own_ Stillwater Boss."

I smiled and cast my eyes to the ground. She was right, and the gang were probably craving a morale booster. Personally, I was exhausted.

"Go for it," I said, waving a hand dispassionately. Shaundi's smile widened to a grin and she immediately whipped out her phone, making calls. My hand jolted to my own phone as it buzzed in my pocket – I checked the caller ID and smiled.

"Hey," I greeted down the line.

"_I'm guessin by your tone and all the dead Samedi you and Shaundi are aiight?_" Gat's smiling voice growled back at me. There was the sound of sporadic gunfire in the background – I could hear the live sound echoing from a few streets away.

"Yeah, we left by the west entrance – the cops were coming in through the lot. Where're you and Pierce?"

"_We just_ – _Get off him fucker!_" More rattling of his rifle, "_Sorry bout that. We just cleanin up the last of the Samedi who aint got the message, most'o them are high-tailin it outta here. You two need a ride?_"

"If you're heading back to Purgatory," I said, stifling a yawn, "Shaundi's decided to throw a party, can't say it's a bad idea, I think the crew might wanna let off some steam."

"…_You sure you up for that - Boss?"_ Gat broached. I felt myself smiling and shaking my head; he'd taken to using my name often as he could, so long as he was sure none of the crew would hear so I was assuming someone must've been nearby. I don't know if it was respect for my wishes or that he liked knowing something no one else did.

"Enough to make an appearance." I replied.

"_Right… what street you on?_"

"Winslow Boulevard."

"_See you two soon_."

* * *

><p>We were piled into the car, a Justice convertible. Peirce was driving; Shaundi (still making call after call) had splayed herself out in the back next to Gat, who had given up his shotgun position for me. After a little fighting over the radio (I was demanding KRUNCH, killing the General had put me in a metal mood, but Pierce was whining for Classical, <em>urgh<em>) we finally managed to agree on KRhyme, the heavy bass rattling the cars speakers. I gave the boys the run down on what happened in the mall.

"He must've had that Bulldog delivered – I got some of the boys moving what's left to see if we can salvage anything from it," I said, before the roar of an engine next to us startled me. Another purple car raced up beside us, Saints leaning out the window, cheering, a few firing their pistols into the air. Shaundi whooped and waved back at them and Peirce grinned, beeping the horn. Two purple and black bikes tailed us too, flicking their lights.

I felt a grin spreading over my face – news of the Saints' victory must've been spreading like wildfire – Shaundi's party was clearly a good idea.

By the time we pulled up to Purgatory the car park was already unusually full, though my parking spot was still reverently clear. Peirce pulled in and we stepped out in unison. Several grungy metal heads pulling gear out the back of a van greeted Shaundi loudly with broad grins, and I blinked.

"Shaundi… you got a _live _band? How did you swing that so fast?"

"How do you _think_?" Pierce asked dryly. Shaundi just smiled as she greeted her 'friends'. I heard Gat chuckle next to me and we started for the elevator.

Stepping through the short hallways and down the beautiful grand staircase into the hideout, I was astounded at how quickly everything was moving – music was already blaring from the radio, kegs were set up, Saints were drinking and laughing, strippers were flipping themselves around poles. When some of the crew noticed us entering, they began to cheer, getting everyone's attention. Soon the whole hideout had erupted into noise, the gang clapping and throwing fists in the air. Shaundi and Pierce lapped it up (Pierce in particular). Gat stood next to me and folded his arms, a smile barely hinting on his face. I gazed down to my gang, feeling a soft smile in my eyes. After a beat I raised my hands to quiet them. I wasn't really in the mood for making speeches and certainly didn't have one prepared, but I knew they wanted to hear from me. Fortunately it didn't really matter what I said to them; I could get up there and fart and they'd think it was the Gospel.

"Right gang!" I addressed. They hushed, "It ain't been easy, but we done it… we proved to all those muthafuckers that we're the baddest and the bravest, we took back what was ours – we fucking _own_ Stilwater!"

They exploded again into cheers. I beckoned to one of the Saints on the stairs who was pumping a keg to bring us all a drink, then raised my hands to the crowd, gently waving them down again. "You all fought hard for this, so we're gonna rock this place to its foundations – but before we do," I said quickly, to cut them all off before they started cheering again. I accepted a plastic cup of cold beer and held it up, "We lost a lot of soldiers, and a lot of friends. Raise a glass to them. This victory is in their names."

I hoped it sounded poetic. Everyone in the room lifted their glass, or bottle, or cup, a few sounds of agreement made.

"To Carlos!" a voice sounded from up the back. I instinctively raised my cup a little higher and my Saints began cheering for their fallen comrades, some voicing names of people they'd known, and everyone drinking deeply to their memory. When I looked into the crowd I spied Manny with Carlos' old crew, all of them standing close together. Now wasn't the time for me to wallow, I had to stand strong for them all. Clearing my drink in a few gulps I crinkled the plastic cup in my fist and threw it to the ground. I had to leave them on a high note.

"Let's make this one a night to remember!" I shouted to mass. Again they erupted and the music flared.

* * *

><p>I didn't join the party right away. I was covered in dirt and blood and my clothes stank of sweat and… brain. I'd retreated to my room, locking the door and slipping into the shower for what must've been half an hour. The closed doors and noise of the shower drowned out most of the party, but the heavy vibrations of the music rattled through the walls.<p>

I know I'd said it was over but I knew it wasn't. There'd be loose ends. Not to mention Troy and Dex.

And Julius.

I frowned. I needed answers from them. I needed to know what had happened. I closed my eyes, feeling the water drum over my forehead, seeping a little into my hairline and I began scrubbing the blood and other er,_ lumpy_ bits from my hair; my gratitude for Shaundi saving me was starting to wear thin by this point and I started vigorously rubbing soap through my hair. How many times I lathered, rinsed, repeated I don't know, till finally I just stood under the water for a while, feeling tension in my shoulders ease. That being done, I started scrubbing the filth from my skin.

I'd already gotten what I could from Troy; he still might know how to find Dex or Julius but I don't think there was any way he'd tell me, not without me having to twist his arm. I didn't like the idea of torturing Troy for information, especially information he might _not_ have. Dex was still proving to be slippery, from what I could tell he was rarely in town, hopped about the country a lot for his new job. It was pretty obvious Dex mightn't be too eager to chat and it was obvious why. He knew that if _I_ knew how far his betrayal had gone, I would want him dead… I was almost certain now that it had been him who'd sent the assassins on me earlier that year (I suppose as some sort of pre-emptive strike) and him who'd blown up Gat's place… he's done worse to save his own hide before. Still, I'd prefer to get the opportunity to speak to him before I killed him; Julius had dropped off the face of the earth altogether but Dex might know where he was, or have the resources to find him. I'd just have to keep trying the numbers I had and hope he'd answer when he was back in the country. Or just go ahead and put a price on his head… but no, I wanted to see him. Speak to him. And kill him myself, depending on the outcome of the meeting.

Now that the Samedi were gone, I had the time and breathing space to do this, to track them all down. I realised this also meant I should give Gat the phone recordings… he wouldn't handle them well, I knew that.

I abruptly shut off the water, stepping out into my newly-renovated ensuite and drying myself off with an exceptionally fluffy bath-sheet. I gave a small sigh of satisfaction; though I was used to roughing it and not afraid of the poverty line, it was nice to see and feel the fruits of your success. Like giant fluffy bath towels. You know, the finer things. I then took a brush and dryer to my hair, flipping my head upside down and clumsily drying my locks, all the while praying I wouldn't come out the other end looking like Fran Drescher. Hair styling was far from my strong point.

Satisfied, I stepped out into my room and hunted through my wardrobe. As much as I just wanted to pull on a tank top and go to bed, I knew I'd better make an appearance, and in the spirit of the night, look pretty damn good. The night was cool, but Purgatory, packed as it was and buried underground, got overheated quickly. I pulled out a black and purple bondage top that laced and buckled up at the front, black short shorts and my favourite bad-girl bondage-boots, rows of buckles decorating the sides, disguising the fact they were actually done up with zips. Over some purple and black banded knee-high stockings, I figured it was a good mix of comfort and sex appeal.

I brushed some dark makeup over my eyes and ran a brush through my now soft and glossy hair, which thankfully had dried in such a way that it styled itself. I smiled at my own reflection; not bad for minimal effort. Outside a few chords struck from a guitar – Shaundi's friends were starting up. Good time as ever to make an entrance.

By the time I walked out into Purgatory again it was swarming with people and the walls vibrated with dark, sexy rock music. The band was riling the crowd up, not that they needed it. People were filling the space in front of the band creating a dance floor-come-mosh pit, swarming the bar and kegs for drinks or huddled in little groups passing joints or plates of coke. I paused at the top of the stairs, searching for my lieutenants; Shaundi was in the middle of the dance floor, gracefully whirling and weaving her petite frame, dreadlocks whipping about her. She seemed to have found her favourite guy for the night, who I recognised as Reace, the blonde who'd been Carlos' friend. Shaundi was swaying her hips suggestively at him, and he smiled like he'd won the lotto.

Pierce was sprawled out on a sofa that had been pushed up to a wall, two scantily clad girls curled up next to him, flirting outrageously and laughing loudly at whatever adventure story he was telling them.

The sound of gunfire alerted me to Gat. He stood at one end of the bar, showing off his marksmanship to a small mass of Saints that surrounded him by firing at a dartboard that had been set up at the other end. They had erupted into cheers (some resentfully slapping money into the palms of their peers) and Johnny leant back, grinning. I peered at the dartboard, a cluster of bullet holes having appeared on its bullseye. I grinned in kind and leant against the marble railing of the staircase. Johnny was nodding and accepting slaps on the back when by chance his eyes met mine. We both stopped, sharing a smile – he actually lifted his hand in an awkward wave. Slowly I made my way down the stairs, and he in kind moved to greet me.

"Finally done preening, princess?" he yelled over the music as we met. I punched him playfully on the shoulder and he chuckled; I saw him rake his eyes up and down my outfit and I suddenly felt a little underdressed.

"Yikes." He comment dryly, and I ran a hand through my hair, "Where's the riding crop?

"Upstairs with the cuffs and gimp suit." I responded loudly over the music, with equal sarcasm, and glanced to the bar. "Let me buy you a free drink,"

Johnny grinned and in a surprising move took my hand to assist me down the rest of the staircase.

* * *

><p>I was about three beers in, feeling relaxed but still ready to go to bed. Gat and I had been leaning up against the bar on barstools kindly vacated for us, watching the band – they were pretty good and were happy to take requests. We'd long since given up trying to talk while the band was playing, instead just enjoying the music.<p>

They'd been hammering away for about an hour before finally taking a break.

"Not bad, huh?" Gat said, taking a swig of his beer.

"Shaundi did a good job," I replied, even though I was grateful for the lull in the noise.

"You sure you don't wanna go back to one of the cribs?" He broached again, leaning up against me a little to be heard. I rested my tired head on his shoulder, soothed by the familiarity.

"They like me being here," I replied. I felt him shift so his arm was across the bar and behind my shoulders, his hand resting on my shoulder and brushing my skin with his thumb restfully, "Besides, any Saint who isn't here is gonna be at one of the cribs having a party so I don't think I'd get much sleep anyway. You tired?"

He shrugged. My eyes moved up to his face – he was still watching the band. I soaked in his features for a while before turning my gaze back to the stage. Only instead of the stage, Shaundi was suddenly in front of me, pupils dilated like saucers and a broad smile over her face.

"Hey Boss!" she said with a happy sigh, jumping up onto my lap and straddling my hips. I blinked.

"Hey Shau- _mmrph!_"

Before I knew it her mouth was on mine- my eyes flew open and then I felt her tongue push aggressively into my mouth, slipping around tauntingly. Just as suddenly she pulled back, sliding off my lap and grinning.

"Join the party Boss," she said, swaying her way back into the arms of her lucky conquest.

"… Wow. The fuck happened there?" I heard Gat say, his jaw dropped and looking like he was about to have a nose bleed. I scrunched my lips, tasting the bitter pill left on my tongue and Shaundi's motives became clear. I poked my tongue out, removing the lilac tablet and narrowing me eyes at the imprint. I felt Johnny lean over to look at it too. A fleur-de-lys was stamped into it.

"Hey Johnny, did you know we were marketing our own pills?" I asked nonchalantly.

"I heard 'bout them, supposed to be pretty hectic." he warned. Huh. I still felt exhausted, but the spirit of the party and our victory had become infectious and like a petulant child I didn't really want to go to bed. I spared a glance at Johnny. Yes or no?

He plucked the pill from my fingers and snapped it in two, handing a half to me and throwing the other down his own throat.

"Fuckit." He said as he washed it down with another swig of his beer. I raised my eyebrows at him in surprise, then without thinking, swallowed my own half. One half wouldn't cause too much trouble, right? Just enough to keep me awake.

Right?

* * *

><p>Twenty minutes later and I was on the floor with Shaundi, dancing to what had become the <em>Greatest Band of All Time<em>!

I can't believe I was so tired and wanted to go home before – I wasn't tired at all! And this place was _awesome,_ really _awesome!_ There was every shade of purple; the purple lights were dancing off all the _beautiful_, purple people. Shaundi's grin was from ear to ear and she twirled around me, taking someone's hand – Oh it's _Pierce!_ Oh I _love_ Pierce!

"Hey Boss!" he yelled over the music – I just grinned back, reaching out for the shortest moment to allow him to give me a single twirl under his arm. Then I leant back into the throng of the crowd, letting the furious guitars and machine-gun drumming drive me. His and Shaundi's arms snaked around my waist as the crowd began to jump to the beat; the mosh pit pulsing like it was Purgatory's own heart. I jumped with them, cheering, crushed by the hot bodies of my gang, all throwing arms up to the band. I hadn't realised how much I'd needed this; for a while at least, I didn't feel the weight of responsibility, I wasn't the fearsome leader of the Third Street Saints.

The band struck a finishing chord and we cheered, the drums kicking in again almost instantly to a new track, and suddenly the crowd was swarming back, people throwing out arms to create a large space and a whirlpool opened, sucking ecstatic dancers in to whirl and spin, shoving and kicking and punching and fighting each other. I laughed when I saw Gat come flying out of nowhere (had be been crowd surfing?) and threw himself into the melee, more than a few guys trying to dodge rather than take him on. He must've been enjoying the pill as much as I was – I'd never seen him as anything more than laid back at a party till now.

The band played on tirelessly to match their audience for what could have been hours or mere seconds – whenever they took a break, heavy, sexy hip hop would thunder from the speakers. Shaundi, who had vanished for a moment, reappeared next to me with two bottles of water – I was quick to twist the cap off and poured half the bottle down my throat in a matter of seconds, tipping the last of the bottle over my forehead and burning skin, shaking my hair free. I groaned in pure ecstasy as the icy liquid ran down my face and chest, soaking through the fabric of my top and trickling over the bits of black leather, the icy sensation magnified ten times by the drug coursing through my veins and I felt my skin crawling with rapture. As I opened my eyes I caught sight of Pierce and Gat nearby dancing with a few strippers and scantily dressed girls (it was hard to tell which were which). Pierce had his arm around two, but Gat was staring directly at me with what could have been surprise, seemingly oblivious to the girl grinding herself up against him. He, like a few of the guys in the mosh pit, had lost a shirt and now his chest was covered only by the thin white singlet, stuck down onto his skin with sweat, as if it had been painted onto him. It was weird; for a beat we had both slowed and almost stopped dancing – my chest heaved breathlessly and I smiled at him, sashaying over with the music and took his hand as he stepped forward to meet me, actually giving me a small twirl before moving in closer.

What was one dance between friends?

One song melted into another, then another, the beat slowing, the bass line thrumming, vibrating up my legs and into my core – my hips swayed and I felt like a snake being charmed. I'd never seen Gat dancing before (Gat 'didn't dance') but he was surprisingly good. We'd been relatively playful at first with cheesy moves and laughs, but now it was evolving with the music. I moved closer to him, becoming uncomfortably aware of things I'd been going out of my way to ignore for a long time.

How defined his arms were, the broadness of his chest, the sexy-as-hell tattoo that snaked up the back of his neck and crept onto his throat. How good he smelled – that warm, masculine, familiar scent that made me safety and danger all at once. Ordinarily I'd force myself to ignore it all, but amphetamines have a funny way of fucking with your intentions, and inhibitions. I shivered, feeling his breath on my shoulder, on my neck, and glanced down to the small space between our bodies. It was such a strange sensation – the closer we got the more careful we were not to touch, even as strangers' bodies brushed past us in the heavy crowd. It began to feel electric – I could notice his hands move as if to rest on my hips but pull away in frustration, and I finally looked up to his eyes, finding his were already on me. I'd barely realised we'd all but stopped moving. We stared at each other wordlessly – his expression was one of restraint – behind the glasses his sharp eyes were dark with dilation, his lips were slightly parted. I suddenly felt small, and found myself mentally begging him, my skin craving him… I didn't feel in control this time, and I didn't want to.

I could feel the moment slipping – he'd sighed and rested his forehead against mine for a moment, but I felt him starting to move back a little. _Christ Johnny, of all the times to be restraining yourself!_

My hands quickly found his and moved his palms onto my hips, my heart leaping into my throat when I felt his skin burning on mine, as if he was only touching me for the first time. Our eyes met again for a beat, and then I saw a flash of smile curl up one side of his mouth. He tugged me in closer, and I instinctively leant up, stretching high onto my toes… my eyes slipped closed, and I could taste his breath… after what felt like an eternity, our lips hesitantly brushed-

And he kissed me…

I closed my eyes tighter, melting into it, feeling my whole body flush with heat that had nothing to do with Purgatory's burning atmosphere. Without thinking it I ran my fingertips up his arms, smiling at the small shiver I enticed and wrapped my hands around the back of his neck, surrendering myself to it. The kiss was soft at first, and then he suddenly deepened it with far more passion than I'd expected when he wrapped his arms around my waist, quickly sliding his hands lower over my hips and then the back of my shorts. For one torturous moment he broke the kiss, suddenly lifting me up till my toes were inches off the ground and we were eye to eye – he pulled me in tightly to his firm body holding all of my weight and I wrapped my arms around his neck a little tighter, impatiently bringing my lips to his again. I snaked an arm further around his neck, one hand moving to his face, tracing my thumb over a high cheekbone as I felt his tongue gently press past my lips. It was dizzying, electrifying, and I for a while I could feel his heart beating against mine – I could have stayed like that forever.

Till a few hoots and whistles sounded out around us – we pulled out of the kiss simultaneously at the interruption, realising we'd caught the attention of a small handful of Saints on the dance floor, cheering us on, some actually yelling out at us; "Yeah Boss!" or an "A'right Gat!"

I felt Johnny's dark chuckle rumble through his chest as my hands slipped away from around his neck, but staying against his warm skin. He carefully lowered me till my toes touched the ground again but still held me close – and his grip still firmly over my ass. I was smiling and got the feeling I was blushing (I couldn't remember the last time I _blushed_). As the band began screaming its way to a crescendo, everyone's attention deflected back to them. Johnny brought up a hand and pushed a lock of hair from my face, fingertips lingering on my cheek and he was grinning from ear to ear. I felt myself melt and gave myself over as he brought my lips to his again, the band striking out their last, earth-shattering chords-

"_THANKYOU AND GOODNIGHT!_"

* * *

><p><em>My hands shook and rattled the last wisp of smoke from the gun. My cheeks felt tacky and saturated with tears as I watched Seth, a hand clutched over his chest, eyes bulging in shock and horror watching the blood seeping from between his fingers and under his palm.<em> _He shuddered, legs collapsing beneath him as he slid down the wall tracing a smear of crimson on the filthy paint behind him. Blood sprayed from between his lips as he snarled and spat his last word at me._

"_Whore" he whispered, the Vice Kings snarling it with him. I shut my eyes, my trigger finger squeezed sharply, once, twice, again and again till the empty clip clicked dispassionately at me. I looked up, expecting Seth._

_But it was Johnny's face with the bullet hole where his right eye should have been, another bullet hole in the middle of his forehead and the skin was scraped away from his face, exposing the bone on his chin and cheek and brow._

_I tried to scream, but made no sound. I ran to him, begging and trying to yell for help but my throat was tight and strangled…_

I coughed and my eyes snapped open in terror. Christ that was a bad one… I'd had nightmares before, usually about Lin or Carlos or drowning… but that one…

I pushed myself up to sit and ran a hand through my hair, the sheet pooling around my waist. I glanced down at myself, blinking at my own naked chest. Huh. I didn't usually sleep nake-

'_Ohh, that's right,'_

I threw a glance over my shoulder; Johnny was stretched out, fast asleep and his torso bare. My gaze ran down his skin and I bit my lip, the memories of last night began flooding into my head and for a moment I forgot to breathe, a nervous smile flickering over my mouth. Last night was… Christ it was _good_. It was insanity.

'_Really, reeeally good insanity'_

I leaned forward, releasing a breath I didn't know I'd held in. I suddenly began feeling nervous. Johnny and I slept together… _we'd had sex_. Several times, to my recollection… God why was this making me nervous? I spared him another glance before I slipped out of the bed, hunting on the floor for my clothes – I found my bra, clean underwear, and my shorts, yanking them on. I tried to do up the fly only to find it was broken – the joint had been ripped. Great. I found my top too, cringing when I saw it. The lacing that did up at the front looked as if it had been cut and portions of the stitching were torn, the garment literally ripped off my body and was now unsalvageable. The scene flashed back in my mind – I'd been so concerned with getting _him_ undressed I hadn't really paid attention to how he was getting _my_ clothes off. Looking at my top I could've sworn a pocket knife was involved. Brilliant. I hadn't wanted to go hunting through my wardrobe for the risk of waking him but now it looked like there wasn't much choice. I tried to open it as quietly as I could and pulled out the first shirt my hands fell on, yanking it over my head and flicking my hair out. I paused when I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror on the inside of my wardrobe door, tilting my head and peering at my usually milk coloured neck; I spied a huge purple blotch on my skin. My fingers ran over it for a moment and I bit my bottom lip before whipping my attention away from it, snagging a pair of purple canvas shoes and tugging them on, moving for the door.

"Where'you goin?"

I froze at the sleepy voice, feeling uneasy at the level of affection in the tone. I looked over to Johnny; he shifted and folded his hands behind his head, inadvertently showing off his strong, tattooed torso. A lazy smile graced his face; without his glasses his sharp eyes were unnervingly piercing.

"I uh," I started, "I got stuff. On. To do."

His lazy smile became a mocking grin. "Oh, _I'm_ convinced," he said sarcastically. I thought I was going to laugh but no sound came out – I knew how I sounded. "Come back to bed." He continued, shifting and propping himself up on his elbows.

I wanted to. I wanted to wrap myself up in his arms; I wanted to feel him undressing me and kissing me and feel his warm body under mine again. But then another feeling, something icy running through my insides and suddenly the room was too small. I looked longingly to the door.

"What are you _doing_?" I heard Gat ask. Christ, I couldn't answer that. I glanced back at him. Johnny was the one person I trusted and relied on whole heartedly. I loved him, as my best friend, I loved him better than anyone I'd ever known. But our whole relationship had been based around never being like… _this_. We were forcibly platonic and had always made a very conscious effort to never be _anything_ more than that and now it was shot to shit. Kissing him, fucking him… it was like floodgates had opened in me and we were suddenly something else, something _so_ much more, like the thin strings that tied us together had become steel cables. I hadn't slept with _anyone_ I cared about _half_ this much since-

Bile lurched into my mouth. Not since Seth.

I felt like I was drowning.

"Johnny I – I gotta go," I said breathlessly, all but running from the room.

"Wha-" he called after me. "_Wait-_" I was at the elevator, thumb mashing the call button. The doors pinged open and I stepped in, breathing heavily and punching the button for street level. As the doors slid closed I saw him burst from the room, staggering as he pulled pants up, his face a mess of confusion.

"_Lil!_" he shouted out and I flinched at the shortening of my name-

"_Don't_ call me that," the words flew out of my mouth before I knew what I had said and felt a sudden wave of shame thunder down on my shoulders. The doors sealed closed, and elevator lurched upwards.

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><p><strong>Reviews are always loved!<strong>


	41. Stuff of Legends

**Forty. Chapters.**

**Holy cow, I'm amazed I've gotten this far... Thank you _everyone_ a thousand times for all your reviews and constructive feedback, I don't think I'd have improved as much as I have without it!**

**So my darlings, without further ado... **

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><p>I was driving way too fast, weaving dangerously between cars as I pulled up onto the city circle. I had no destination in mind, and going round in circles in the city didn't seem like such a bad idea. The sky was a dull shade, overcast, and I couldn't tell if it was early morning or late afternoon. My hands were shaking and I was furious at myself.<p>

"How could you _fucking _do that to him?" I snarled aloud, wanting to smack my head against the steering wheel. "What is _wrong_ with you!"

Frustrated I reached out to turn the radio on – the car was too quiet. In my carelessness the car swerved and scraped someone in the left lane who sounded their horn loudly but I couldn't care less. GenX roared onto the radio, the unmistakeable sound of a familiar Paramore song echoing over the waves.

"_-won't let you-oo-oo, let you give up on a miracle, cause it might save yooou – it's not faith if, if you use your eyes-"_

"Shut up bitch!" I shouted at the radio accusingly, quickly changing the channel.

"_Why'd you have to go and make things to comp-li-cay-ted-?"_

Click

"_-design, cos you're a criminal as long as your mine I want your Love, love love love I want your l-"_

Oh for _Christ sakes_ was the radio set to ironic today? I mashed the buttons again to switch stations before the soundwaves actually killed me. Then to my relief the musical intro for the news fired on, followed by the unmistakeable voice of Jane Valderama.

"_An unpleasant surprise for shoppers today as the Ultor Mall was unexpectedly closed for 'emergency redecorating'. Chairman of Ultor, Dane Vogel, has apologised for the unprecedented move, which is believed to have been caused by recent gang activity in and around the venue. When questioned, Mr Vogel denounced the gangs, claiming it was time they were cleansed from the city-"_

I scowled at the idea of Vogel – I had thought it was just personal dislike, but something whispered that this guy could cause me problems in the future. Hell, he worked with Dex, it really wouldn't surprise me.

The distraction couldn't last; it was a matter of my mind jumping from Vogel to Dex, from Dex back to Johnny, and the details of the night before. SHIT! Did we even use protection? _Fuck fuck fuck_ need to get to a fucking chemist now and… or would Shaundi have something? Of course she would, the woman was a walking pharmacy. With a frustrated growl I forced my attention back to the radio while I tried to think of what exit I had to take.

"_In other news, a strange series of assaults occurring last night ended in murder, with a victim found early this morning identified as Jackson Burbage, a man once associated with the notorious street gang, The Brotherhood. Police are baffled by the nature of the attacks, reports indicating that the man suffered a series of human bite marks consistent with those found on previous assault victims, and that several of Burbage's internal organs had been removed, including parts of the brain. Is it possible a new cannibalistic trend has evolved from the popularity of Voodoo practise, or is this attacker standalone? I'm Jane Valderama, chan-"_

I flinched as my phone rang then grabbed it and checked the caller ID: Shaundi. A heavy sigh escaped me when I answered it.

"What?" I growled.

"_Boss! Where are you?"_ Shaundi yelped down the line. I squinted my eyes closed for a moment till I remembered I was driving, and peered back at the road.

"Driving. Getting breakfast. Why?"

"_Breakfast? Boss it's like four pm – no that's not important,"_ Shaundi said quickly, _"Look, I just got a call from some of the boys at the university, they're sayin some Samedi are pulling a last stand to try and get some turf back. They've gone nuts; they're ripping apart any Saint they find-"_

"Great," I said quickly. It had meant to sound sarcastic but I was actually very thankful for the distraction, swerving and yanking on the hand break to drift the car around, flicking onto the other side of the highway and tearing towards the University.

"_Great? Uhm, yeah. Pierce and I are heading over now; you want to meet up first-?"_

"No, I'll be fine," I said, rocketing off the circuit and heading for the tunnel through to campus.

"_Oh right,"_ Shaundi said, her tone sly and teasing, _"You probably got Gat there to protect you, huh?"_

I furiously mashed the end-call button and threw my phone at the passenger side door.

* * *

><p>Carmella Camry had seen her fair share of gang activity in the university; she'd been at the monster truck rally when a girl from the Brotherhood had been found crushed in one of the trunks of the cars, there the quad open day when the Saints had attacked the Samedi and cleared them out (though admittedly she'd been on the other side of campus and had only <em>heard<em> the gunfire, rather than seeing it). Still, the Stilwater gang life had since captured her attention. An up and coming journalism student, her professors had often commented that her passion for 'the story' had always far outweighed her talent and it was comments like these that pushed her to try and, not improve her writing skills, but find more dangerous and exciting stories and take the risks other students were unwilling to. Which is how she found herself running with a handheld camera against the crowd of panicked students, _towards_ the sound of gunfire, and also how she managed to get a stray bullet in the leg.

Strewn out in the middle of the street, sobbing and terrified as she tried to stem the slow flow of blood from the wound and her video camera dropped beside her, she looked up to see a wild-eyed, machete-wielding Son striding up to her, grinning manically.

"Say goodnight bitch," he hissed, lifting the blade – but the sudden roar of an engine distracted him – "Oh _SHI-_"

There was a sickening crunch as the pearl-purple Bezier fired through him, sending the Son flying through the air. The car skidded to a halt, and _she_ stepped out of the driver's side, blue eyes blazing, full, silky black and purple hair whipping about her shoulders, the fiery light of sunset glowing from her milky skin. She reached into the back of the car and pulled out two SMGs, marching into the fray.

Carmella edged up painfully onto her knees, jaw dropped when she recognised the woman.

"Hey!" Carmella called out – the woman turned and glared at her.

"Get outta here kid," she said icily, indicating away with her gun. Carmella began crawling away, tears starting to spill down her cheeks at the burning, barbed-wire pain that was shooting through her leg. She glanced over her shoulder to look at the Saints' Leader; a Son came screaming at her, wielding another machete. She turned and nonchalantly raised her TK, releasing a tiny burst of shots and blowing his head apart.

Carmella released a half astonished, half horrified breath, before grunting and stumbling to her feet, hobbling away into a side alley, her video camera forgotten, laying on the road and still rolling. Twenty years from now and she'd still be telling the tale about the time the Maniac Leader of the Saints saved her life.

* * *

><p>"Shaundi, are you still high? Watch the fuckin road!" Pierce yelled out as he fired from the passenger seat. The young woman gritted her teeth and swerved to avoid a lime-green car.<p>

"Well _Christ_ Pierce if you could keep these fuckin Sons offa me!" she snapped back, "Did you get onto Gat?"

"Yeah, he said he's on his way,"

As if on cue a blur of purple rode up next to them – Gat was astride a Tetsuo he'd obviously kicked someone off, not bothering with a helmet. He nodded at them curtly and accelerated as the crew swerved around a corner onto campus.

"Any sign of the Boss?" Pierce yelled over the sound of his gun. Shaundi just tapped him on the shoulder and pointed down the road to where their Leader was thrown into the centre of a mad melee, supported by a small band of Saints.

Crazed was the only way to describe her – she moved like a berserker Viking, hunting down the Sons of Samedi that were invading campus, blowing holes in them with her semis – when she ran out of ammo she just started bashing in skulls with the butt of her weapon till she had enough time to take the guns and ammo from the bodies she'd accumulated, shouting and firing at anyone in green.

"… Is she high again? She's uh, really in the zone there," Pierce said awkwardly as Shaundi pulled the car up, grabbing her rifle from the back seat.

"That's an understatement."

They'd seen her fighting before – she was usually calculated; fearless, sure, but careful and focused with her aim. But today there was a wild reckless abandon in the way she fought. It was terrifying. They jumped from the car and started picking off the Samedi, joining the fray. Gat's rifle thundered as he let off round after round upon the Samedi; it really was the Son's last stand, if they could finish them here, there would be no return.

* * *

><p>The Samedi numbers were thinning; a few were finally seeing how outnumbered they were by my Saints and trying to retreat. I was breathing heavily, my heart thundering from the adrenaline of the battle. A small lime green car attempted to escape – I snarled, firing a handgun I'd taken from the corpse of one of the Sons and unloaded the clip, taking out the wheels. The car swerved sharply and slammed into the brick wall around the Uni stadium, the hood catching fire. I grinned breathlessly, hearing my Saints cheering behind me, the last of the Samedi dead or chased away. <em>Victory<em>.

I didn't see the car that swerved around our small band of brothers from behind. I heard them though.

"FOR THE GENERAL!"

There was the sound of a gunshot, and something heavy hit me in the back of my head. My vision went to black and I fell forward.

The last thing I heard was Shaundi screaming.

* * *

><p>Time seemed to slow as she fell – Shaundi screamed as she saw the spray of blood splatter from the back of the Boss' skull as the bullet impacted. Every single Saint froze when they saw her body hit the road. She lay there, face down, unmoving, and blood pooling through her hair. In unison, the Saints turned and opened fire on the car as it tried to escape, killing the driver, the car slamming into a light post.<p>

The gang were after it, pulling out the last two Samedi, throwing them to Pierce and Gat. She could hear one of the Samedi laughing manically; "_I did it_!" he was screaming, "_I killed the Leader of the Saints_!"

They threw that one to Johnny.

Shaundi was the only one who stayed near the Boss. She was too scared to get any closer, but she wouldn't leave either. Shaundi trembled as she looked at her friend; the Boss' head had rolled slightly to the side when she'd hit the ground revealing half her face, grey-blue eyes still open, but empty and lifeless, staring vacantly into oblivion as a halo of blood grew around her head. Shaundi crumpled to the ground, a petrified sob rattling from inside her chest and she looked to the where the gang had now congregated with tearful eyes. Pierce had already discharged of one of the Sons, but Gat was taking time with his. He was wild; having thrown his gun away he was beating the man with nothing more than his bare hands, roaring curses till his voice was hoarse.

"GOD. DAMN. _MOTHER. FUCKER!_" He howled, every curse punctuated by Gat pounding his fist into the man's face, stomach, chest, again and again. Even when the Son was a crumpled, dead mass of flesh, blood and bone and Johnny's knuckles were raw he kept punching till Pierce and three other Saints finally pulled him off. Shaundi blinked through tears.

"Get the _fuck_ offa me!" she heard him yell with his voice cracking from strain, throwing the people from him and smacking an already bloodied fist into the face of a Saint who attempted to grab him a second time. He stepped away, standing alone, blood dripping from his trembling hands and shoulders heaving with deep breaths that released a weak sound of pain every time he breathed out.

And just like that, an eerie silence fell through the street. Shaundi stood shakily, walking those few short paces towards Pierce and Gat, tears of shock falling down her cheeks. She couldn't look back. Pierce reached out and pulled her in tightly, rubbing a shaking hand over her back. He sniffed, the girls tears moving him more than he realised and his own eyes prickled, suddenly hot.

"I can't bel… he _shot_ her" Shaunsi muttered quietly, "In the _fucking head_. I can't believe it, _it's not real_,"

The small band of Saints were silent, reverent, everyone too shocked or confused to speak. Gat stood apart from them, and like Shaundi, couldn't look at the body just a few meters up the road. A small breeze blew by, swirling dust and flecks of rubbish around their feet.

"…Holy_ shit_…"

Gat and the two lieutenants looked up sharply at the Saint who'd spoken. His eyes were wide – he was looking past them to the place where their leader fell, and raised a shaking hand to point to her. They turned, eyes following his gaze. Shaundi nearly fainted.

The Boss was getting up to her feet, a hand to the back of her head as she gave a small groan.

"_Ow…_ what the _fuck_ was that?"

* * *

><p>"A god damn <em>metal plate?<em>" Pierce said through his laughter. I wasn't in the mood for laughter. I had the worst possible migraine and I felt sick from blood loss… getting shot in the head will do that to a person.

The plate must have been put in there when I was in a coma – something had struck the back of my head that night, they must have needed to reconstruct my skull. Whatever. I didn't feel like mystery solving. Shaundi was curled up in the back seat with me, pressing her folded bandana against the gash on the back of my head, trying to stem the flow of blood from the wound; I'd barely caught a look of myself in the mirror, but my lips were white and my eyes looked sunken… after seeing how much blood I'd left on the road I was amazed I was even functioning, but mostly I just felt hungry and had a headache… maybe it was… shock or something. Shaundi smiled and handed me a bottle of OJ we'd picked up at a gas station on the way back to the hideout; I don't know how orange juice was supposed to help, but I didn't question it.

"Stuff of legends Boss," Shaundi said with a grin as I chugged down the drink (though it really didn't feel too satisfying), "Get shot in the head, walk it off."

I wasn't really listening to them – Gat was in the front seat riding shotgun this time. He hadn't said anything. He'd helped me to the car, got me settled, but that was it. Pierce and Shaundi kept talking, making incredulous observations. We rolled up to the parking lot, Shaundi helping me out of the car as we made our way to the elevator and rode it down to the sanctuary of Purgatory. We stepped out and I aimed right for my bedroom.

"Ohhh no you don't Boss," Shaundi said, holding me by the shoulders and redirecting me to my office, "Ten to one you got a mad concussion, you can't go to sleep yet."

I frowned at her, too tired to deal with this. "I took a bullet in the head Shaundi; I think I can handle a nap."

She laughed, "You're going to be playing that card for a while, aren't you? 'I used to be a banger like you, but then I took a bullet in the head!'"

A collective groan went up from us, "You did _not_ just make that joke," I said with a cringe.

She sat me down on the sofa in my office, and Pierce had moved down into the main area where a few Saints were still loitering to regale the story, but Gat had ducked into my room. Shaundi crouched on the sofa next to me, wincing when she checked under the bandana, "Okay Boss, you need something for the pain?" She asked worriedly, "You want a joint?"

A small breath sighed from my nose; _she_ wanted a joint more likely, it was obvious to anyone when she was trying to disguised how freaked she really was. Still, I shook my head, "Any prescription painkillers in your arsenal?"

"But of course," she said lightly.

"Kay, good…" I grumbled with a wince, and then quickly added lowly as an afterthought, "You got any other pills?"

Shaundi grinned and tilted her head, "Hah, what like the one you had last night?"

"… No, one I should probably have _because_ of last night," I said, giving her a pointed look. She just smiled and nodded; this was clearly not an uncommon request of her.

"Yeah, no problem,"

It was then Gat strode into the office, folding something up in his hands.

"Well," Shaundi said, unusually loudly, "I'm gonna go get some stitching stuff and… your painkillers and... stuff," she announced. I glanced to the ground with a smile, and she quickly left, throwing a glimpse over her shoulder at us.

The silence hung in the air; I could discern voices below but they didn't mean anything. Eventually Johnny turned a little, looking over his shoulder to me. I couldn't see his eyes past those damn glasses, couldn't read his expression.

"How you feelin?"

I cringed as I held Shaundi's bandana to the back of my head, "Hungry," I said lightly. More deafening silence. We looked at each other. I was amazed – of everything I'd _ever_ done in my life, _this_ was one of the few things that made me feel like a rotten person.

"I'm sorry I ran out on you," I said quietly. After a moment he turned fully and stepped towards me, his footsteps muffled on the carpet.

"Here," he said, holding out some folded white gauze, "That bandana's wrapped around that girl's head twenty-four seven and fuck knows what's living in her hair."

It enticed a small laugh from me. He lowered himself down on the sofa next to me and I was grateful; I know he didn't say it, but the gesture told me we were ok. His hand covered mine as he took the bandana away, pressing the clean dressing onto the gash; I realised he must've gotten it from my ensuite-

But the moment his skin touched mine my heart hammered in my chest and my skin flashed hot, ghosts of the events the night before racing in my veins –

_His lightly calloused fingertips moved hungrily over my bared skin as he kissed his way down my throat. I groaned, mind swimming and I wrapped a leg around his waist, my fingernails raking down his naked back and I breathed "Johnny…" My mouth found his and I claimed it, tongue pushing past his lips making me sigh when I tasted his saliva mix against mine, he fiercely growled, a hand stroking my cheek, running over my hair; I could taste him moaning my name into my mouth. He suddenly turned my body beneath his and I shivered, welcoming his weight, his scent and his warmth; Johnny eased back, hand running down my side, pulling my body up to his as he kissed me. I bit my lip and arched into him, my breaths becoming expectantly rapid when he began trailing teasing kisses down my neck, my breasts, my stomach… to my hips… _A wild shiver ran up my spine at the memory that followed and thought for a moment I was going to throw myself at him.

Holy crap… that was unexpected. I pulled my hand away and let him hold the dressing there for me, and tried to clear my head and keep talking. Next to me he'd tensed and shifted, his lips looking flushed.

"I was…" my voice was almost inaudible, I muttered an 'um' but I really didn't know what to say next; the blood seemed to have rushed out of my brain and straight to my erogenous zones… not too good as I was actually a little low on blood at the moment so getting turned on was actually making me dizzy; I knew everything I _wanted _to say to him but I couldn't.

"You have any idea what it was like seeing you get killed?" he said finally, his tone quiet, pained. I blinked and looked at him. His face was steely, unreadable as ever. Johnny always managed to confound me with his ability to appear so cool and bury everything he was feeling – except anger. He could never control his anger.

"If it was anything like seeing you get run through with a katana, I'm sorry." I replied. He turned to look at me, a ghost of a smile across his mouth.

"You realise that's the second time in a minute you said those words that I ain't ever heard you say before."

A tiny breath escaped me as compensation for an actual laugh. Another small silence hung between us. I was well aware Shaundi was taking a very, _very_ long time looking for the first aid kits that sat very obviously behind the bar.

"Listen Boss, things don't have to get weird," he said, casual as anything. I felt my eyes snap up to look at his face and something twist painfully in me when he called me 'Boss'… "We fucked, no issue; it doesn't have to be a big deal." He finished.

I watched him closely; he still refused to look back and hardly seemed satisfied with what he'd just said. I was grateful for the option, of just going back, back to how we were. But then I thought about my involuntary reaction to him just touching my hand and… it didn't seem so easy. This was Johnny, my closest friend, the only one who'd stuck with me from the very beginning, the man who'd taken bullets for me, and I in turn for him. He deserved at least an attempt at an explanation.

"Look," I said, shifting to sit forward a little. I hated having to open up, but I knew I had to. For him. "That was the first time in…" I paused to do the math, "Maybe five years that I slept with someone I actually care about." I saw his eyebrows raise a little but didn't get a response. I wished I could explain everything, explain the nightmare maybe, but the words just wouldn't form in my mouth.

"I freaked." I finished.

"It's fine… wait," he said, frowning briefly, "… Carlos?"

I blinked, unsure of his meaning at first, "Oh," I said with realisation, "We uh, we never actually-"

"Really? Huh." He said, shaking his head.

"You should stop making assumptions about my sexuality." I warned with a wry smile, soon reflected on his face.

"S'cuse me, I think I can make all the assumptions I want about your sex life now." He teased back. I held his gaze for a while; for once he was the first one to break eye contact.

"It's fine, don't feel pressured or anything," He said, nodding, not looking at me. "It's no big deal."

I nodded quickly. He was lying, I knew he was, but what could I do but appease him? "Right. Just… one of those things." I agreed. I leaned forward out of Gat's reach and pressed my hand over the dressing. "I'm gonna go find Shaundi," I said, and gave him a smile, hopefully disguising how awkward I was feeling at that moment, "Thanks for being cool with this," I said, leaning forward and planting a peck on his cheek. Platonic, purely platonic… He leaned into it and we both froze as I attempted to pull away.

Yeah. Just one of those things.

His mouth was on mine before I knew it, a hand gripping the waistband of my shorts and pulling me to him; my hands went to his hair and I fell onto him, straddled his hips inciting a deep, hungry growl that I couldn't be sure if it came from my body or Johnny's; my heart was suddenly hammering and a warm fire spread over my skin, I couldn't control it -_I didn't want to_. My arms moved securely around him and I felt every hair on my body stand on end as his hands ran over my waist, holding me tightly to his skin. He pushed me down on the sofa, but I instinctively twisted, pinning him beneath me (not that he seemed to mind) and deepened the kiss. He pressed back against me and I writhed like a cat on heat, I couldn't remember ever wanting someone so _badly_… I parted my lips, inviting his tongue to my mouth and he hungrily obliged, releasing a small groan when my hands slid down his strong, firm body and pulled the fabric of his shirt up slightly, letting my fingers drink in the silky sensation of his skin, tracing the scars on his torso. I felt his skin prickle with goosebumps and he shivered, his hips rocking into mine.

I couldn't help the sudden groan bubble up from my throat when he did – I pressed a kiss to his jaw, smiling when he tilted his head and grinned; I let my tongue race over his jugular vein, feeling the pulse beneath his skin, rapid and heavy and making my mouth water. I grinned darkly, remembering the wine-red blotch he'd left on my neck, and decided this was as good a time as any to take my revenge; I bit down slowly but sucked the flesh hard into my mouth to bring up a violent, violet bruise and heard him hiss sharply, then snarl. He couldn't hold back for long, gripping my jaw and forcing my mouth back to his. The kissing was flooding my memory with everything that happened the night before and I arched into him-

And he sharply put his hands on my shoulders, pushing me away.

"We should stop," he said swiftly, as breathless as I was. My jaw dropped and I stared at him in absolute disbelief. I shifted, still straddling his hips and my skin tingling and hot.

"Seriously?" I asked slyly. I heard a small _pat_ and saw a droplet of crimson land on his skin, then realised it had dropped from a lock of my hair. He responded with a dark smile.

"You' still bleeding from the head and-"

"Oh, right." I acknowledged. I was shot in the head today. Might need that looked at. I carefully unwrapped my legs from around him and we both sat up slowly, smoothing clothes and hair. I released a shaky breath and stood up starting for the stairs, having to steady myself as my head whirled from the anaemia... _how the hel do I keep surviving this shit?_ I glanced over my shoulder when I realised Johnny wasn't following; he stayed determinedly on the sofa and waved me off.

"You go. I'll be down in a minute." He said, his face steely and he was leaning forward, elbows on his knees. I nodded, suppressing a grin at him and turned to continued down the stairs, breathing slowly.

I wasn't sure what we were anymore, but I was pretty sure I liked it.

* * *

><p><strong>Woo, good to be back ;)<strong>


	42. U: Most Inconvenient

**My cat is EVIL. Halfway through editing this thing and he decided to walk on the keyboard, _somehow_ hitting the magic keys to undo all my precious work. Asshole. He did it on purpose.**

**Not that that actually has anything to do with _why_ this update took so long. It was just one of those stubborn chapters, y'know?**

* * *

><p>"Gat I told you, if you don't put her in her crate at night she just runs around the hideout."<p>

I snorted at the noise, my heavy eyelids slowly opening and I yawned, aware of feeling cold and rather uncomfortable. Urgh, where was I? Blinking my eyes open I began to notice the dank brickwork, and my sketchbook was over my lap, pages scattered on the pavers; glancing to my right I could see the large wall, half painted with the mural I'd been slowly working at. Looking down at my hands I saw they were covered in paint and ink… great. Sleep _painting?_ The sound of footsteps alerted me to Johnny who was walking over, and behind him I spied Shaundi in the doorway. I rubbed an eye.

"Mornin' Boss," Shaundi greeted from the distance. I blinked up at Johnny who smiled and reached down a hand to help me up, which I gratefully took. I grunted a little as I got to my feet, muscles stiff and sore from sleeping on cold stone.

"… Shaundi, did you give me-"

"Ambients, yeah, sorry-"

"-You _know_ what happens when I-"

"I know, I know… it's just my stock was a little low and you were really hurt," She replied sheepishly and I growled, but Johnny threw an arm over my shoulder, rubbing my skin to help me warm up. I heard him chuckle.

"Gotta say there, it's your best work yet," he teased; I stretched out my arms and glanced at the wall again. It was _very_ obvious which parts I had decided to paint in my sleep, there were splatters of paint and drawings that looked like the work of a kindergartener or a chimp.

"The ironic thing it, modern art critics would probably say the same thing," I grumbled dryly. Seeing something on the wall, a sort of half splattered face abruptly reminded me of something, but as I spoke Johnny did too-

"I got something I need to show you-" we said in rapid unison then blinked and gave a short awkward laugh. From the doorway I heard Shaundi mutter something that sounded like 'weirdos', then she wandered off. I shrugged up at Gat.

"Okay, you first," I offered, "What is it?"

He drew a short, if slightly dramatic breath. "You've gone viral."

"… What?"

"You've gone viral," he repeated, then started walking me back into the hideout, making a beeline for the stairs and consequentially my office as he continued; "That shit that went down with the Samedi? Someone recorded it, it's all over the net, they even showed it on the news this morning." He finished and I blinked, I guess not grasping the gravity of the situation.

"There's been security footage of us all over the place before-" I suggested but he shook his head sharply, flicking open my laptop and typing my password in. I didn't bother asking _how_ he knew my password, just resigned myself to the fact.

"-Not like this," He brought up a browser and began typing in an address.

There was a brief silence as the webpage popped up and the video began buffering.

"… Plans for today?" Gat asked and I blinked at him.

"Hmn? Oh, yeah, I've gotta see Rusty at twelve, getting inked."

He raised an eyebrow, a slightly amused smile curling at his mouth, "You actually made an appointment this time?"

"Yeah, well, it's a big job and I've been putting it off for ages," I said dryly and he nodded after a beat.

"Oh, the-" he indicated down his own side and I nodded.

"Actually, it'll end up a little longer than that, maybe from about here," I said, shifting to show my side and indicating to nearly the top of my rib cage, "To here," I finished, indicating about halfway down my thigh. I glanced back up to Johnny and he had a slight smile of approval, though I got the feeling he was staring through my clothes as he tried to picture my new tattoo. The video started playing then, and our attention snapped back to the screen, "Hold on, let me skip to the end…" Johnny mumbled.

I narrowed my eyes at the webpage, "… Whoah, half a million hits already?" I said, feeling a little cocky; the video couldn't have been up for more than ten hours. Johnny nodded but he wasn't smiling,

"Yep. And that's only _this_ posting," he said. The video apparently went for about twenty minutes, but it was the last five or so Johnny skipped forward to. The angle of the image was skewed; the camera must've been on the ground, but it had caught everything. I watched myself, surrounded by a few of my crew and the road littered with bullet casings and bodies. I peered at the recording, seeing myself firing a pistol and taking out the tyres on a Samedi car – there was a brief pause when everyone was cheering, then off-screen the screeching of tyres and a loud shout, then a gunshot. My stomach leapt into my throat when I saw the splatter of blood from the back of my head, and my hand instinctively flew to where the stitches were hidden under my hair. Johnny's breathing was a little laboured at that moment and from the corner of my eye I could see him grimacing.

The camera hadn't moved; it kept filming me as my body hit the ground, my head rolling to one side. It was so… ghostly. People were running off-screen, and in the corner of the image I could just make out Shaundi dropping to the ground. In the centre of the image, my body just laid there, head slightly to the side. What was even creepier was that my eyes were _open_. People's eyes were supposed to close when they fainted, but Ilooked dead.

The noise off camera was fading, and through the speakers I could hear Gat yelling something, making my insides twist – my hand covered his before I knew it. Then I blinked, still surprised though I knew what was coming… I watched the little image as my body shifted, my eyes blinked then cringed and slowly, like I was a marionette being lifted, my body stood, a hand moving to the back of my head, my voice carrying out faintly.

'_Ow… the fuck was that?'_

"… Fuck me…" I muttered, still stunned, "What do the comments say?"

"Some people are saying it's fake or staged, like that shit that happened with Muse. Then there are the conspiracy theories, my personal favourites. You know, that you're a robot or zombie or something. Pretty soon I think the doctors who worked on you are gonna come forward and explain everything, till then it looks like you're the biggest thing on YouTube since the Keyboard Cat."

"Right…" I said lowly, cringing at the recording. I kind of wanted to see the rest of it, considering as now I was an internet smash. Not that I considered that a particularly huge deal, when a talking orange could be just as much of a celebrity.

"What was it you wanted to show me?"

I was shaken from my meditation by Gat's voice and blinked up at him. Oh, that's right-

"Yeah, hold on," I said, quickly rifling through a drawer in my desk for finding the CD, the thin disc somehow heavy with the weight of so much information. Part of me didn't want to show it to Johnny though I can't be sure why. Maybe because I knew it would upset him? Regardless, he deserved to hear it. I twisted the CD thoughtfully between my fingers and felt him lean in curiously as I slipped the disc into the laptop, opening the files and plugging in the headphones. With a heavy breath I stood from my chair, indicating for him to sit in my place.

"When me'n Shaundi broke in the police station, I found this," I started, not wanting to elaborate. Gat was turning his hard, curious gaze from me to the computer as he sat and (at my indication) slipped a headphone into his ear, "They're… phone recordings," I finished in anticipation of his next question. He only threw me one incredulous, wide-eyed look before quickly looking back to the computer and as swiftly opening the first file. I shivered impatiently, as I heard the heart-breaking words murmur from the headphones.

* * *

><p>The hideout had been wonderfully peaceful of late; the Saints were finally beginning to tire of celebrating their total victory and the sudden lack of an obvious enemy had many of the crew taking a little down time in between their odd jobs. A small number of Saints could be seen comfortably loitering around, some sharing joints or splitting beers, a few of the crews counting out cash between them. The serene atmosphere was, however, suddenly broken by an inexplicable roar:<p>

"_**SON OF A SHIT!"**_

* * *

><p>I barely had a second to scramble for my laptop when I saw it about to slide off the desk; Gat had stood so suddenly and ripped the headphones out so quickly he'd nearly sent the console flying across the room.<p>

"Gat careful! That's my lapt-"

"He fucking knew? He fucking knew the _whole time?_" he continued oblivious to my placations, "I'm gonna _gut_ that fuckin' cum-stain!"

He must've been upset; he was getting quite creative with the cussing. Carefully setting the laptop aside I took a quick step to him and put a hand to his shoulder, "Breathe, Johnny-"

"_Breathe?_" he yelped sharply, whirling on me and I had to remind myself to stay still, "How are you so damn calm about this?"

"I wasn't the first time I heard it," I replied, my voice steady but a little hard, "Trust me, just, _chill_ for a moment, I happen to like my office _intact_."

It was only on those last few words that Johnny seemed to be getting a grip of himself, though his face was still thunderous. He nodded sharply, "Okay, okay, I'm… I'm good."

He wasn't, hell, _I _still wasn't after hearing those recordings. Still, I rubbed his back carefully as he pressed his palms onto the desk, scowling.

"He… he fucking _knew_?" he said, voice quieter but somehow even more dangerous, "He sold out a _whole gang_ just so he could go be a suit at Ultor?"

"Yeah," I reiterated, the cold hatred creeping up my spine when I heard Johnny saying what I already knew. His hand reached up and gripped over mine, both resting on his shoulder. It was a new gesture that distracted me for a moment and I felt a twinge of irrational nervousness that I shoved out of my mind, "And still not much luck in tracking him down at the moment," I continued quickly, "though he should be coming back into town soon."

"Good," Gat growled darkly. He stood up straight, hand dropping away from mine as he clenched his fists, staring into something imaginary, "When I'm _through with him-_"

"You know I'm not sure if I want you hearing the rest of the conversations," I said quickly, feeling a little worried. I hadn't expected such a huge reaction and I hated seeing him this… hurt.

"Listen, I'm fine," he said, carefully bringing himself under control and turning to face me, "It's just… a bit of a fuckin shock. I knew Dex was a sellout _cocksucker_ I just didn't realise how responsible he was for…" he sighed, not seeming to know how to continued. The rage was melting, and he started looking like he had a headache; as suddenly as the fury had erupted it had quietened again, and he slumped down heavily against the desk, mimicking my habit and running a hand through his spiky hair which rebelliously sprung back up. It was a moment before he continued, and in a tone I can't say I'd ever head before. "All those years. Fuckin _wasting_ in a cell, _you_ in a coma…"

My feet moved before my brain told them to, and as soon as I was in his reach he quick as a flash reached out and tugged me towards him, wrapping his arms around me so tightly I began to feel like a child's comfort blanket.

"…_Wasted_." He murmured bitterly into my hair. I felt my own grip tighten on him, unsure exactly of how to handle… this. I'll admit it, the recent shift in the er… dynamic of our relationship often had me wondering how I was supposed to act around him, though he seemed to have fallen into a new attitude with a good deal of ease and intrepidness – dare I say, impatience. It wasn't so obvious when other people were around, he wasn't much for the public displays of affection, but when we were alone, it was a different matter.

"I'd say this year's made up for a lot of lost time," I suggested quietly, willing myself to relax. He sighed against me.

"Not enough."

A long silence stretched out but he wouldn't let me go. I didn't mind, instead closing my eyes and distracting myself with his warmth. His voice quietly rumbled through his chest.

"Why'd you have these for so long and not tell me?" he asked. I didn't feel guilty about keeping them from him; I knew I'd done the right thing. All I had to do was think of a way to phrase it.

"It didn't seem like the right time." I said softly.

"… But I'm guessing this is why you haven't been sleeping lately?" he ventured, finally releasing me from his iron-like grip, and I turned to lean next to him against the desk.

I only gave a small nod, "Mhmm."

He was still frowning, though control was visibly spreading through his body, and he eventually continued, "What's on the next recordings? Just so I ain't shocked when I hear'm."

"There's a short one of me talking to Troy," I said, the order and words of the conversations burned into my mind like my ABCs, "Then… Troy talking to Julius, trying to get him to convince us to quit. The last one just confirms that it was Julius who planted the bomb."

"Christ," Johnny mumbled. I saw his gaze flicker down to the laptop, and he carefully picked up the headphones again.

"… No smashing the furniture," I said coolly, "Okay?"

A flash of a smile tugged at his mouth before he opened the next file, "Deal."

* * *

><p>Word to the wise.<p>

Boob tattoos _hurt_. Not that I'd gotten much ink done there, but like I expected the tattoo had turned out to take up more skin space than I'd originally thought. The design snaked its way down my left side, forward over my hip and about halfway down the front of my left leg. And I was pretty damn happy with how it was looking, even if it was only the outline so far.

It was a tangle of elegant curls and lilies, weaving around other little images and tying them all together. A bloodied katana, a voodoo doll with its fluffy head ripped off. Barbed wire wrapped around one of the lilies, and threaded through the rest of the design are other little things that had come to me when I was drawing it. Guns, an ankh, some writing I'd found in the book I'd gotten from Eye for an Eye. In a few days I'd be back and Rusty's and we'll start getting it filled in, mostly in purple, black and red. I was only going to do patches, because at the moment, moving was suddenly proving to be a very inconvenient thing to do.

For one thing, I had to wear a god damn sun dress. I hadn't worn a skirt since… well I can't really remember. But considering the placement of the tattoo I couldn't wear underwear let alone jeans or fitted fabric, so there I was, wandering down the street heading for the bar and hands gripping the sides of my skirt in case a wild gust of wind appeared, and a satchel slung awkwardly over the wrong shoulder. Two hours in a tattoo chair warranted a drink.

The nightclub was one of the random, well-done places in the district. I was considering buying it, it looked like a good money generator, that and the hideout was fast becoming a nightclub itself, or that's how the Saints were starting to treat it. I didn't like that. Purgatory was my home and a sanctuary for any Saint who wanted it, and I sure as shit wasn't going to allow it to become some stupid nightclub. I'd just buy out _this_ stupid nightclub instead.

I pushed open the doors to the place; it was large, and very modern, soft blue lighting glowing eerily through the place and even though it was mid-afternoon it was still quite busy. I made my way up the stairs and towards the bar, gingerly taking a seat.

"What can I get you honey?" the bartender asked sweetly and I blinked past her to the racks of bottles, feeling a contented smile twitch at the corner of my lips when I recognised a particular label.

"Merlot and a shot of buffalo grass," I said coolly and she nodded, turning and fixing my drinks. I shifted and tugged my skirt a little lower over my thighs, appraising the room till the goblet and shot glass were settled in front of me. I threw the vodka back, hissing in sharply to bring on the soft aftertaste of the grass, breathing out and enjoying the warmth that quickly spread through my limbs.

Then it happened again. That same sudden flash that seared through me the night of the boat explosion, the night Aisha was killed, the countless other times where it felt like death was reaching out and touching me.

The doors behind me burst open and I spared only the briefest glance as a freaking _SWAT_ team poured through the doors. I barely had enough time to be surprised – they were shouting loudly, _"Move move move move!" _and filling the room, red lights flashing from their guns and I glanced down, seeing the bright scarlet laser dots on my chest. Uh oh.

I sprung over the bar, grabbing the bartender for leverage and pulled her behind me as the rain of bullets was unleashed, and I dropped down onto the grimy tiles, wincing when I landed on my freshly tattooed hip, the slick plastic bandage slipping against my skin. Above my head bottles of spirits were exploding, and I could see blood splattering on the glass from the fresh body of the bartender. The thundering of the guns stopped and I could just discern the clatter of them creeping forward over the sound of distant screams and dribbling from the broken bottles. The smell of ethanol was filling my nostrils and I breathed out heavily, allowing myself a half second to figure out what to do. I was severely outgunned, I had a knife in my boot, a GDHC.50 and a lighter in my bag.

"This could be going better." I mumbled dispassionately to myself, hunting through my satchel and drawing out the lighter, flicking a flame into existence and tossing it up above my head. My body tensed in anticipation as I drew my gun… The short silence was suspended in the air, broken by a sudden _whooph_, a flash of heat, and shouts from the armoured guards as the spilt bottles of spirits erupted into flames.

And I bit the bullet, springing to my feet just high enough to swing my aim over the bar, both hands gripped around the gun to steady it and narrowing my eyes at the helmets I could see through the fire. Had to make these shots count-

My trigger finger squeezed sharply, quickly, as my aim flicked from one to the next, the bullets landing on the weak spot of their tinted visors in the two short seconds they were distracted by the flames. One was close enough to slump forward on the bar and I grappled for the body, grunting and dragging it over the counter and using it to cover me from the fresh spray of bullets that were thundering through the air now. I tugged the rifle from the man's body and slung it over my shoulder, then discharged the last of my bullets into the light fittings. It created a chain reaction, the room suddenly engulfed in darkness as the last of the flames began fading, and I started running in a low crouch. The team were shouting, some still firing, and creating chaos as I crashed through the fire escape, swinging my way down them swiftly, and above my head mere seconds later the door burst open again, followed by the thundering of the armoured guards. Bullets whistled past me, hitting the concrete walls and sending grit flying through the air – I only just managed to burst out of the crash doors and into the alley. One end was empty, the other suddenly blocked off by an Ultor squad car with two of the guards leaping from the sides, guns pointed at me and yelling at me to surrender. Wait _Ultor_? _Ultor_ was coming after me? What the fuck for?

But I didn't have time to think. I sprayed bullets from the rifle at them, shattering the windshield and sending their bodies crumpling to the ground. Panting, I sprinted for the car, jumping onto the hood and slipping through the broken windshield into the car, the engine thankfully still running. My breathing was rapid and sharp and I winced, feeling bits of broken glass cutting into my skin and shredding the thin fabric of my dress as I ripped the car into reverse as another rainstorm of gunfire landed on the car. I ducked low behind the steering wheel as I skidded the car around but bullets thundered into the vehicle, and I could only hope it was armoured.

Didn't stop them taking out one of my tyres though.

Still, I was in a car, and that gave me a lot of comfort as I sped, a blur, through the streets even with the wailing of Ultor's Masako team hot on my trail. _Backup_, I thought quickly, blindly fumbling through my satchel for my phone, but it was ringing the moment my hands landed on it. The briefest glance to the screen told me who it was.

"Johnny-"

"_Where are you?"_ was the sudden reply, and my own words fell from my mouth without thinking as I tried to stop my already half-ruined car from flying off the road.

"I'm a little busy right now-"

"_Yeah, well I just got the fuckin' Masako on me-"_ he said just as rapidly. I grunted as the car was suddenly slammed forward, one of Ultor's Five-Os ramming me. I flicked last second down a narrow alley and sliding through a parking lot then distractedly put the phone back to my ear.

"_Hey! You there?"_

"I'm good-"

"_Listen, if they're after you an' me, you bet your ass they'll be goin' for Pierce and Shaundi."_

I nodded, my mind racing a at a hundred miles an hour, "Right – where are you now?"

"_Downtown loft-"_

"You good to grab Shaundi?" I said swiftly, "I'll get Pierce."

"_No problem,"_

As I hung up, I forced my breathing to slow and focused on keeping control of the car using only one hand while I blindly began dialling for backup.

* * *

><p>Shaundi had been in the middle of making herself an early dinner when the Masako kicked in her front door and stormed her house. This earned one of them a frying pan to the face, but she'd only had enough time to grab the SMG she kept taped under the breakfast table (a gun in every room, just like the Boss ordered) before trying to make her escape out the back. A heavy thud on her shoulder made her stumble, but she still managed to sling herself over the back fence and start jogging down the road.<p>

Behind her, the small team of masako took chase.

"Dammit, shouldn't that tranq-dart have kicked in by now?" one called to his team mate with slight surprise, "They said this one'd be easy to get-"

"… Hit her again then." The other replied flatly, stopping with a shrug and fixing the laser guide onto the back of the girl who was letting a spray of bullets across the road. He fired, and she stumbled forward when the dart hit, but to their utter disbelief turned and bitterly started firing on them and earning more than a few curses from them.

"God dammit, she's still up? It's like taking out Robert Downey Junior!"

It took another two darts before she finally stumbled to the ground, unconscious.

* * *

><p>I'd only ever been to Pierce's place once; it was a one bedroom thing in Sunsinger, near the arena. The place was pretty crummy, but Pierce maintained it was a good safe house, inconspicuous and that. Clearly not inconspicuous enough; I could see a convoy of Ultor SUVs roaring their way westward, sirens wailing. I flicked my own siren on, racing along against them a few streets away; if they saw me they clearly thought I was probably their backup and leading the team of Ultor security behind me, not being chased by it. That ruse would only last so long though.<p>

I cruised into the lot behind Pierce's apartment building, thinking for a moment that I'd beaten them to him; the car suddenly jolted and fishtailed, and I ripped at the steering wheel but not fast enough; my foot slammed on the brakes but the front of the car still crunched into the wall of a neighbouring building and the airbag exploded in my face, fabric burning across my cheek.

I couldn't help but groan as I turned in my seat, clumsily readying my gun and squinting through the rear window, unleashing bullets into every figure I could see coming towards the car, all the while trying to duck as the car was being ripped to shreds around me as more bullets thundered down.

The shadow of a helicopter raced overhead followed by the unmistakable beating of its propellers, and then a thunderous roar from an engine, and the biggest fucking… truck-thing I'd ever seen roared into the lot. It was a dark Ultor grey, six wheels and looked like a giant armoured beetle, or bear. I felt my jaw drop and instinctively turned my gun on it, but I may as well have been tossing pebbles at the thing. My blood turned to ice when I saw the turret on its roof turn to me, and I barely had time to scramble out of the car before it was torn apart by bullets, the tank hammering them along the side of the car. The hood began to smoke and I tumbled quickly behind a dumpster as the lot was shaken by the explosion of the car and a flash of heat. I noticed the firing had stopped, and heard instead the shouting as the masako team began clambering out – they must've thought they'd killed me… I used the momentary lull and sprung from behind the dumpster, firing through the flames and cracking their helmets open with bullets. With the lot cleared, I began jogging for the apartment, breathing heavily and hoping I hadn't gotten there too late.

As I kicked the doors of the building open I spotted them, a clusterfuck of people making me unwilling to open fire in case I hurt my lieutenant. A team of about five of them were trying to hold Pierce down; he still fought, even with his hands cuffed behind his back till one of them smacked him hard over the head with the butt of their rifle and he dropped to his knees, stunned. I grasped the opportunity and quickly reloaded, narrowing my eyes and rattling off a round over their heads making their helmets shatter.

"Pierce!" I called out and he shook his head dopily, blinking then rolling to his side, slipping his hands down around his feet so they were at his front, then scrambling to get the key from the body of a guard. Eventually he got up to his feet and we started jogging towards each other, though I broke into a sprint when I saw another stray masako guard charge down the stairs-

"Pierce get down!"

I ran at him and tackled him down just as a storm of bullets thundered overhead, then that horrible impact, that searing sensation of red hot barbed wire piercing through my skin and muscle and the cry erupted from my throat as it ripped right through my side. The pain made my mind numb for a moment, I can't be sure how long, but I can remember Pierce twisting and grabbing my gun, firing across the hallway. The gunfire stopped for a moment but the air outside was still filled with the sound of sirens and the beating of chopper propellers.

The pain was burning at me and I cringed, gripping my side and hoping that fucking bullet hadn't hit anything too major as blood began seeping from between my fingers. _You've dealt with this before_, I reminded myself, and allowed a hearty groan as I crawled up onto all fours, then attempted to get to my feet.

"Boss!" Pierce called out quickly and I felt him grip me under the arms, "Fuckin am I glad to see you – c'mon, I gotcha," and just as quickly he hooked an arm under my knees, lifting me up and began jogging out of the building and back into the lot. The jolting made me grunt, and I peered at where he was headed; towards the big tank-thingie, the door still flung open from where the masako had leapt out. He bundled me into the back and slammed the door shut, fumbling around in the dim light for any sort of first aid stuff.

I gingerly lifted my hand and looked down at the wound, seeing a puddle of blood slowly pouring from it. Fuck… _fuck_. This wasn't good… a bandage was not going to stop that and we had no time for a stitch up job.

"…Pierce…" I muttered breathlessly, feeling a flash of fear at what I knew I had to do. He distractedly looked over his shoulder to me, and panting, I looked up to him, "Gimme your handgun…"

"Huh? Uh, here… what're you-"

I took it from him and swiftly fired off three shots, not giving myself enough time to hesitate before I rammed the fire-hot muzzle of the gun into the wound. I mightn't have allowed hesitation, but I certainly allowed the howl and unimaginable flow of cussing. The pain radiated right through my abdomen and with shaking hands I held the gun there as long as I could before ripping it out and curling over. It wasn't the most ideal way of treating this, but it sure as shit beat bleeding out. The blood wasn't pouring from between my fingers anymore but Pierce was grabbing me by the shoulders, panicked and trying to speak to me. I could hardly hear him, and with a shaking hand pointed the gun away and fired twice more, clumsily trying to hand it to him.

"M-my back-" I grunted through a clenched jaw.

"What? Boss I-"

"FUCKING NOW PIERCE!"

The cry erupted from me again when he dug the heated muzzle against the exit wound, searing the flesh and stopping the haemorrhage The whole time he was apologising over and over again till finally he ripped the gun away, quickly grabbing my hands and letting me dig my nails into him. To his credit, he kept his cool like no one else could.

"Easy there, breath, focus, you're good," he said helping to hold me steady while I closed my eyes and willed away the pain, but suddenly his hand clamped over my mouth and I grunted, "Shh!" he said quickly and I blinked widely at him, hearing what he heard. He shifted and got up, glaring out of the heavily tinted armoured windows.

"More Ultor backup – just, stay quiet-"

My hands dug into the sides of the bench I was reclined on and my jaw clenched tighter and tighter as I closed my eyes. The air was tense; I could hear cars outside, some voices, then the screeching of tyres.

"Hold up… looks like they're leavin," he said and I slowly opened my eyes, grunting and sitting up. He turned quickly then, "Whoa, whoa-"

"I'm fine," I whispered, "Just… gimme that kit, I'll bandage u-"

"_Unit Alpha, come in."_  
>We both snapped out attention to the front of the vehicle where the voice radiated from. Pierce glanced to me worriedly, his hands on a kit which he quickly yanked down and dropped at my feet.<p>

"_Unit Alpha, do you read?"_

I looked from him to the radio, then to the kit. Pierce suddenly began climbing to the front and I winced as I reached for the kit, pausing to listen in on what he was saying.

Pierce grabbed the talkie, sparing me a nervous glance as he looked back, "… Unit Alpha here-" he said swiftly,

"_Status?"_

"… Targets eliminated… they tried escaping, but we took the car out it uh… exploded." He said with his best attempt at professionalism, and I thought back to the burning shell of one of the Ultor cars outside. With a wince I dropped the top of my sundress, scrambling for bandages and with shaking hands began binding up my torso.

"_What seriously! I mean uh – good job. Good job… If you are still functional orders are to the north island, Gat is still loose."_

"Roger that," Pierce said. I felt myself smile when I heard Johnny was still out there, not that I ever doubted him. Pierce twisted in the front seat to speak to me, "Hey Bo- oh jeez, sorry-"

I rolled my eyes to him, seeing him look away awkwardly. But to be honest I was in too much pain right now to be freaking out about him seeing me half naked, "You know being a gentleman really shouldn't be the top priority at the moment," I said tiredly through gritted teeth as I kept bandaging up my waist. Not my best job, I was hoping the surgeons might do better. Pierce cleared his throat and kept looking away regardless.

"I know, it's just… you know Gat'd kill me if I was lookin." He said and it drew a dry laugh from me, followed by a pained yelp as the jolting ripped at my side.

"Can we just hurry up and save their asses?" I grumbled, tying off the bandage and tugging the dress straps back up over my shoulders, "Oh and I'm decent now, good sir," I finished darkly.

"Right, okay…" he said, shifting in his seat and looking back to the controls, "I'm sure I know how'ta drive one of these things…"

* * *

><p>Getting out to the suburbs had been hard enough for Gat – one of the masako grunts thought grenades would be a fun addition to the party so he was currently carrying a back full of shrapnel and by the time he actually got out to the expansion district Shaundi had already managed to get herself captured, so he had to go and chase the damn convoy down and take out the drivers of the truck. But it was when he actually found Shaundi loosely tied up in the back, head rolling about and a line of drool running from her mouth that he finally started getting fed up.<p>

"_Can't_ believe," he grunted as he slung the half conscious woman into the back of his car, "I have to _carry_ your skinny ass outta here, _fucks_ sake…"

Gat slid heavily into the driver's seat, seeing the flash of lights and sirens in his rear view mirror. His foot slammed on the gas as the convoy began catching up to him.

"Hrrghphlll… jzhnny…"

"Yeah I hear ya," Gat called back to Shaundi and tossed her a handgun. She was now attempting to sit upright with all the grace of a sea slug, her face squashed against the window while she fumbled with one hand for the gun and hitting the button to wind down the window with the other. She flopped her arm and head out, trying repeatedly to lift her aim to the cars behind them and letting off haphazard shots, managing to land a few and taking out a tyre on one of them.

Gat swore loudly when he rounded a corner and saw another team of Ultor cars racing towards them. He hit the break and swerved sharply to avoid a collision with them, the car stalling. In the back Shaundi had been thrown forward and fallen on the floor of the car making confused groans and had one leg hanging out the window.

"Okay, well, thing's can't really get worse, can they?" Gat grumbled to himself as he tried to get the car moving again, though his attention snapped up at the roar of an engine, and he saw an Ultor Bear barrelling down the road towards them.

"Oh god dammit!" Gat shouted with exasperation; he ducked in his seat as the turrets on top Bear started shooting. But amidst the sound of crunching metal and shattering glass he noticed his car was staying intact. Eventually the firing stopped and he carefully looked up over the dashboard and then out the windows either side; the Ultor sedans that had been cornering them were now smoking messes, the soldiers inside torn apart by bullets.

"… The fuck?" he muttered in the sudden quiet, and looked at the tank.

"Whzzg'non?" Shaundi grumbled from the back, flopping about to try and right herself. The side door of the tank-like vehicle suddenly burst open, and a rather bedraggled Boss hopped down, waving them over. Gat gave a short laugh of relief and practically jumped from the car, yanking the door open from the back and dragging Shaundi out then slung her over his shoulder, grunting when she hit his injured back.

"Nice ride you got here," he said as they clambered into the back of the Bear, which instantly tore away through the streets of the suburbs. The trio collapsed into a heap in the back, the Boss sighing and dropping her head onto Gat's shoulder with relief and Shaundi quietly drooled on them.

"Bahhh…" She mumbled, before rolling onto her belly and started snoring.

* * *

><p><strong>Phew. Hoping I done this right, it's not the same edit I had before my jerk-face cat decided to interfere.<strong>

**Hey! A bit of trivia. Was watching Batman Year One, when I realised Catwoman sounded awfully familiar. Nearly jumped out of my seat when I worked out it was the same actress who voiced Shaundi. Awesome, huh?**


	43. Johnny II

**I'm a little worried I'm losing my mojo like DoubleH. Sorry about the late update guys, I've been chasing my tail with this chapter for ages, trying to make it work. It was originally going to be the Pyramid mission, but that just wasn't working for me... Finally I just scrapped it and just about started from scratch. And wound up with my second Johnny chapter in the process. It was easier to write from him than from the Boss this time, whenever I try and get in Johnny's head the faster and scattered pace seems to work. Though it also means I end up having to go back through my work and change a few words to their more colloquial counterparts.**

* * *

><p>Just when life seems to start slowing down, you end up sitting in a subterranean infirmary getting shrapnel pulled outta your back while watching your girl be anaesthetised and stitched up by a back-alley patch using stolen veterinary equipment.<p>

Or maybe that was just my life. I don't know how everything went to hell so quick, but dammit if we weren't adapting. Barely a day after being patched and the Boss was up and about, pumping herself full of painkillers and taking care of business, acting like she _wasn't_ turning into a bullet magnet and everyone was taking her lead.

Yeah, I sometimes still thought of her as 'Boss', more from habit I guess, though I occasionally force myself to think like that when the crew is around. I mean _I_ was the one who coined the name in the first place, though four years ago I'd meant it as a sarcastic nick name as soon as I found out I was supposed to be taking orders from the scrawny little thing (though she was far from scrawny now, let me tell ya…) The name'd just kinda stuck after that.

Anyway, she'd called us all into her office almost the instant she was up and running. When I got there she was crouched next to the body of one of those Ultor Masako guys she'd dragged in, and Pierce and Shaundi were hovering over her.

Shaundi jutted a skinny hip out and folded her arms over her chest, "I liked Ultor a lot more when they just made clothes..." she mumbled. Pierce was a little more worked up.

"What'd you do to piss these guys off?" he shot. I glanced to the Boss who only frowned and shrugged.

"Fuck if I know." She replied darkly as she started to fish in the pockets of the cadaver, but Pierce wasn't chilling any time soon.

"Yo I signed up for killing gang bangers," he stressed, "Not some SWAT team from hell."

"Don't worry about it Pierce, we'll take care of it." She tried to dismiss but he wasn't letting up.

"The fuck do you mean 'don't worry about it'?" he kept on, "These guys are packing _space age_ shit! They tracked every one of us down without breakin' a sweat-"

"I dunno Peirce, maybe you managed to attract them with all yo _constant bitching_." I shot at him. He frowned and looked to the ground, and I could hear Boss muffling a laugh. I'd gotten busy yanking the helmet off the head of the body; Pierce _was_ right, these weren't just some cops with shotguns and bullet proof vests. They were fully armoured, and pretty much all the guns they were packing fired armour piercing rounds. We got lucky last time, but for a private security team they looked like they had stuff even the army didn't know about.

The Boss was still scrounging in the pockets of the cadaver, before she found a plastic laminate badge.

"...Shaundi, you ever date anyone who worked at the pyramid?" she suddenly voiced, and then handed me the laminate. It was a clearance ID badge, had a little magnet strip down the side. Shaundi knealt down next to us and I showed it to her – she frowned and put her thumb to her chin.

"... No."

There was a short incredulous silence that Pierce eventually broke, "For real?"

"Alright," she finally said, glancing over her shoulder to her two lieutenants, "You two find out whatever you can about this place. I wanna take these assholes apart."

"No problem Boss," Shaundi said with an easy nod, then wandered out of the office. Pierce followed just as readily, but he was clearly still wound up. Fuckit, he'd get over it soon enough.

I was half expecting orders myself; hey, I never much liked leading anyways. But the Boss didn't move, just stayed crouched over the body, frowning, her eyes drilling right through the corpse. I began to notice her lips moving, like she was talking to herself, the sort of expression I hadn't seen on her face too often. Back in the day, when she was just starting out, just staying quiet and listening to everything, I'd see it. That little crease between her eyebrows, and only half her mouth pulled into a frown. She was thinking, plotting. I stood up slowly, looking down at the body at my feet-

"… I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say this isn't just Dex bein' an asshole we're dealing with anymore," I offered, and she reached for my hand. I took it, helping her up and she winced, a hand to her side but I could tell the pain wasn't what she was concerned with right now.

"They're salting the earth…" she murmured, so low at first I couldn't quite hear it, or maybe just thinking I misheard her.

"What?" I said bluntly. She whirled on me, eyes huge with realisation.

"They're salting the earth!" She blurted, astonished at something I clearly couldn't see, "Holy quacking duckshit how did I _not_ see this before?"

"Quacking d-?"

"It's the same shit that happened four years ago!" she continued, ignoring me, now starting to pace, her hands weaving as she spoke, "Well, you know not the _same_ but it is! Ultor wants to do to Shivington what they did to the Row it's so _fucking obvious!_ Listen, the night of the explosion, Hughes was going to have me killed himself, because he knew he needed the Saints gone from the Row to rebuild it, he knew there's no way I'd let them pull that shit and _then_ Ultor picked up the initiative and went through with it anyway!"

She barely paused to breathe before the words kept gushing. I don't think I'd ever heard her talk as much the whole time I've known her, let alone with this much animation; she moved erratically about like her body was electrified by whatever chaos was happening in her head, all the while I stood there like a bump on a fuckin' log, trying to decipher what she was yammering at a hundred miles an hour-

"_That's_ why Vogel is so involved with what's going on with the gangs! He _needs them!_ We've been playing into his hands the whole time, the property values drop, they buy up the land then use their space-age ninja-team to try take us out, property values go _up_ so they can turf everyone out onto their asses pushing them into the next lot of overcrowded slums and create another plexiglass _hellhole_ right over the top of our fucking hideout!" She finally stopped, blinking and running a hand through her hair, half laughing with the epiphany, but mostly furious. In the beat of silence that followed, I began to get what she'd been saying, and it started making way too much sense for my liking.

"… Okay then," I ventured carefully in case I set her off again, "I take it by this revelation… we're gonna take out Ultor?" Even as I said the words I felt a little sceptical. Destroying a multi-billion dollar corporate empire was pretty ambitious, even for us. I knew the same thoughts were crossing L- uh, _the Boss'_ mind, she was frowning, eyes flickering as she thought. Then, after a moment, I saw that familiar, small dark smile start glowing over her face, and she gave me one damn sexy, dangerous look, and a word.

"Yep."

Haha! This was gonna be fun, I could tell. I didn't know what she had planned for it, but I knew I was looking forward to it. I noticed then she was looking a bit, you know, pale. Well I mean she always looked pale (girl needs to get some sun) but I figured the huge bullet hole in her side might be bothering her now after getting so worked up. So of course I step over to her, put an arm around her shoulders, tug her in and right on cue, every muscle in her body tensed. Fuck. I dunno what's happening here, I swear. We'd been fine before, she'd never had an issue and even now she kept sayin' she was fine but… things were still off. Tense. And fast becoming a pain in the ass. I figured time might be able to smooth things over but already I was just about out of patience.

"… You alright?" I finally asked and I felt her shrug, and she was looking away.

"Bullet hole's buggin' me," she replied flatly, "It's nothing."

Either she didn't get my meaning at first or she was being evasive again. I'm pretty sure the girl'd never lied to me before, a weird thing she did with some people. But she could be real slippery when she wanted.

Okay, so she felt weird. Nervous, apparently. I'd learnt from last time not to push her, so I figured the best thing to do was try and get her out of her own head. With any luck, it'd help uncomplicated things for her, and if I happened to be giving in to something I'd been holding back on for a while, all the fuckin' better.

I kissed her jaw first – that little soft spot right where you felt for a pulse, a spot I found on her that wild night only a few days ago now. Her skin was cool, it almost always was, sometimes it was like touching porcelain. I couldn't help it but kiss her neck again, lower over the tattoo I'd taken her to get five years ago and she instantly shuddered and leaned into me, grateful for the distraction. And yeah I realised that screwing to avoid some sort of emotional something that was happening is probably not the healthiest thing to do, but I was starting to find that once things got going with us it was about as easy to stop as an avalanche.

She turned to me, and pressed her mouth onto mine, and after that things start to get a little blurry. Not being a gentleman about it, I just get that… lost in her. The way she tastes and smells, the contours of her body under my hands, it all makes me wonder how I could've gone so long and never let myself see it. All that confusion and uncertainty vanished almost in the blink of an eye, because nothing had ever felt so damn _right_.

I let my tongue slip against hers and tried carefully to avoid touching her side, but she didn't seem to care, too relieved to be distracted. Her hand slipped into mine and she broke the kiss – I only needed the slight tug to know to follow her to her room.

* * *

><p>I ain't ever been too good at stealth and subterfuge. Whenever I'm trying to find something out, I just head on out and find someone who knows more than me and ask'em. Sometimes, I ask pretty hard.<p>

I figured an Ultor cop would be the easiest place to start; getting someone on their board of directors might be tricky, where as one of these guys I could just pluck off the street, which I did. The Boss had almost the whole gang in lockdown to keep them safe in case the Masako decided to hit us again, so I had to be quick grabbing the guy, couldn't make a scene, couldn't stick around in the Row for too long. I also figured I should get him far away as possible, so I dragged the cop out to the trailer park on the north island.

I was in lockup when the suburbs were expanded, but when I got to exploring the trailer park I gotta say, I liked the place. No one bothers you, no one asks questions, and the cops almost always keep their distance.

No one comes looking for bodies there either.

There's this little dock there, at the bottom of a ditch and it leads to all the old trade water tunnels under Stilwater. Used to be a dock for boat tours but that shut down years ago, now (thanks to me) it had turned into a watery grave for more than a few Ronin fuckwits and a handful of Samedi as well. And now, and Ultor cop.

He was a tough one, not snivelly like a few others I've 'interrogated' before. I preferred that; the criers might fold faster but they tended to get hysterical and screamy and piss everywhere, or get so beside themselves you can't make sense of what they're saying anyway.

I cracked my knuckles, already smeared with the guy's blood. I get real hands-on with this sort of stuff. Water boarding and branding were creative, sure, but really just not my style. The Ultor cop glared at me and spat blood from between his broken teeth.

"The fuck do you want with me?" he growled tiredly, "I don't know anything about a damn pyramid, okay?"

"C'mon, you never wondered where all your equipment comes from?" I asked tiredly, "You ain't ever heard the rumours? Or what about the fact that the little ID card you got there has the _fuckin pyramid_ on it?"

"Why would I tell you anyway?" he grunted glaring at the ground. I gotta tell you, I was surprised. I thought this guy would sing like a bird but hey, there he was, all noble and not about to sell out his employers. I could almost like the guy.

"You might tell me cos you value your life a little more than your paycheck," I offered. That was almost a lie – I couldn't really afford to let this guy live when I was through with him, not unless I had some sort of leverage. I flipped open his wallet again – seeing as I already took the bills from it (not that I really needed the cash, it was more a force of habit) I just started going through the rest of what was in there. A few credit cards, business cards. A photo.

"This your wife?" I asked, holding the photo up to him. I saw his eyes grow wide and he glared at me hatefully. I wouldn't actually do anything to this woman; there was a time when I might have but… no. Not anymore. I wasn't going to be a cowardly fuck like Jyunichi or Shogo, not ever.

Still, it was the kind of leverage I was looking for. I ran a thumb over the photo then looked at the guy's driver licence, "She's a pretty one, I'll give her that… thirty-one Echinacea Drive, huh-?"

"You leave her outta this!" the guy said quickly, panic suddenly racing through him, "She's got nothing to do with this!"

"All you gotta do is tell me what I wanna know." I said coolly and he began shaking with fury, rattling against the barrel I'd tied him to.

"They don't tell us much," he finally started, "I always figured it was a lab or something, but one of my buddies got a few shifts as a guard there. When they took him and the other guards over the cars had blacked out windows so they couldn't see where they were going," He said heavily. I only glared at him and cracked my neck, enough of a threat that he knew to keep singing, "But it _is _in Stilwater, it's underground somewhere, and apparently it's really, really huge."

Hmph. Was hoping for something more.

"Who's this friend of yours?" I asked. He dropped his head and cringed, so I held up the photo again, "C'mon then. You care about your workmate more than your bride?"

"Fuck you." He growled, shaking his head. I stepped forward quickly and drew back my foot, ramming a heavy kick into his guts making him grunt and cry out suddenly.

"You wanna watch what you say if you don't want your pretty lady here to be a widow," I warned, crouching down in front of him, "Tell me who this buddy of yours is, and you can go home to your woman. Play the game, and you ain't ever gonna be bothered by us again."

He lifted his eyes to me then, with that old, familiar glare of pure hatred I'd seen levelled at me so many times. I could see him warring with himself, that strain as his eyes flickered before he finally made up his mind.

"O'Connor." He said flatly and I blinked, quickly having to remind myself that O'Connor was a pretty common last name, "Douglas O'Connor." The guy finished. I nodded slowly, letting the name imprint on my mind.

"Thanks for your help buddy," I said, slipping the photo into his top pocket, along with his wallet. I could see him visibly relax at the gesture, though his hands were still shaking. I stood up and walked around to the back of the barrel to where his hands were tied back.

"So-o what then?" he asked, trying to turn his head to see me, but his position made it impossible, "You're gonna let me go now?"

"Yep," I said flatly. I heard him sigh with relief, and I kept talking to hide the sound as I drew my gun, "You're gonna go home, tell your woman you got mugged on the way. Keep goin about your life like always," I said, and I thought I could hear him start to cry with relief.

My trigger finger snapped down sharply and the gun fired, echoing loudly through the trailer park as his brain splattered forward over the deck.

Shame. I had no beef with the guy, but I couldn't leave the loose end. Still, it was probably the nicest way I've ever killed someone before, though his burial wasn't going to be as dignified. It was about a fifteen minute job, cramming his body into the barrel. Had to break a few bones to make it happen but finally he was hidden, and I rolled the barrel off the deck and into the water where it sunk down into the blackness, out of sight. I was gonna start hosing down the woodwork before I heard sirens above me. Fuckin' cops, hopefully only out here on a domestic disturbance call or something… no one would've called in the gunshot, surely…

I jogged quickly up the stairs and dragged the hood of my jacket up over my head, starting to make a beeline for my car – but when I glanced over my shoulder to where the two cars were speeding into the trailer park it wasn't what I'd hoped. Not cop cars, fucking _Ultor_ five-os. How the hell did they know?

They were speeding towards me now and I ran for the car, but not fast enough. I dove out of the way as one of the five-o's nearly collected me, the car grinding to a halt and the two security guards leaping out. I turned my gun on them as I picked myself up and kept running, managed to take one of them out but another got off a shot from their taser.

I. _HATE_. Being tasered.

The little electrified hooks gripped into my skin and I jolted, that heat and pain ripping through my muscles and I crumpled to the ground, unable to stop my body from jerking. They were shouting something at me and I glared up as the second car skidded to a halt, two more guards jumping out, weapons drawn. They were approaching me cautiously and I fought to make my useless muscles move, gripping my hand around my pistol again. Yeesh, this wasn't going as I planned it.

But then… shit got weird.

Okay, my glasses were knocked off so I didn't see it all too clearly but… one of the cops started screaming, and I saw him grappling with this guy. He looked a bit bloody, but he was wearing purple and white, I figured it was one of the Saints coming to help out. But he wasn't shooting or anything, he didn't have any weapons, he just tore into this cop with his bare hands, bringing him to the ground and, well, it was blurry so I couldn't really tell but seemed to wrestle with him for a bit, before (I guess) he snapped the guy's neck then turned on the next cop, totally unfazed by all the gunfire. The Ultor pricks seemed to have forgotten about me for that brief moment, enough time to push myself back up and get a few shots off, taking out the last two. Without my glasses my aim was a little off, but I managed to finish them off pretty easy. Once they were taken care of, that guy just started shuffling off, ignoring me. I leant against the car to lift myself back to my feet, legs still a bit shaky from being electrocuted.

"Yo!" I called out to him, but the Saint didn't respond. I could hear him groaning, and though at that distance he was pretty blurry it wasn't hard to tell he was hurt, there was blood everywhere. I pushed away from the car and started walking over to him, narrowing my eyes to try and bring the guy into focus. He wasn't looking at me though; he started staring off to the skyline which was getting pale and a little orange with dawn. He groaned again, then before I knew it he turned and ran like a bat out of hell. I almost went to chase him down, but he was way to fast and already too far ahead, I know I couldn't catch up with him. So yeah, just stood there in the middle of the dirt road, wondering what the fuck had happened.

Took a few minutes before I managed to find my glasses. They were a little scratched but aside from that, they were fine, but now I could see the extent of what this guy had done to those cops. In a word, it was… fucked. I didn't get too close to them – I didn't have to. There were holes in their stomachs where it looked like they'd been ripped open, and chunks of skin and meat from their faces were missing. _Missing_. Not cut away or anything, the bits of skin and flesh weren't lying on the road next to them, they were _gone_. Now usually when you kill someone, especially like this, there's a lot more mess (trust me) but the… tidiness of the kill made it look like the bodies had been dumped here, not killed here. The thought crossed my minds that the Saint, or whoever he was, had taken the skin and stuff with him which was fuckin' disgusting.

Somewhere in the background I heard another police siren wailing, and I knew I had to split before they showed up. I jacked one of the Ultor cars to get outta there, but it didn't seem fast enough. Don't get me wrong, if this guy was on our side I was thankful, but after seeing what he'd done to those cops…

Christ. This is one fucked city.

* * *

><p>"Wait, you actually <em>saw<em> the guy?" Pierce gaped at me, a nacho halfway to his mouth.

I nodded quickly, "Yeah. Why, you heard of him?"

"Johnny, do you ever watch the news?" The Boss asked with an amused smile, stealing jalapeños from Pierce's plate, "A cannibal serial killer is the kinda thing that makes headlines, y'know."

"_Cannibal_? Jesus fuckin' Christ…" I growled. Thinking back to those bodies with the 'missing' bits… man I've seen some fucked shit in my time but this really takes the cake.

"Okay, so he's clearly some kinda nut job," the Boss said, going on to steal a drink from Pierce's coke. He whined, but didn't have the balls to stop her, "But if he's on our side, I ain't complaining."

Shaundi finally made it to the restaurant – she was the one who'd arranged the meeting, saying she'd found out about the Pyramid. I'd gotten her onto Douglas O'Connor, and let me tell you, that girl worked fast. But naturally she wandered in late, tossing down a few photos onto the table. I picked a one up, looking over it; they looked like photos from the inside of a military base, all these people in lab coats and stuff-

"Is this the pyramid?" I asked, looking up to her. She nodded.

"Yeah," she said, "Ultor's built a huge Rn'D facility under Mt Claphlan."

"Lemme guess, they aren't developing a better bread box?" I asked dryly but Shaundi just shrugged, taking her seat and stealing a few nachos from Pierce, who growled again, pulling the bowl closer to himself.

"Honestly, they probably are," she said, "They're just, y'know, developing guns and body armour too."

Pierce finally piped up, "Why's Ultor gunning for us?"

"It doesn't matter," the Boss finally cut in impatiently, snatching a fistful of photos and scrutinising them. She was all business now and I could feel everyone reacting to it. She continued, her tone sharp, "Here's the plan. Pierce and Shaundi, I want the two of you to hit the streets and take out as much Ultor property as you can. If Ultor wants to come after us, _fine_, but we're gonna make it fucking cost'em." She fixed her gaze on me then, "Gat, you'n me are gonna hit the Pyramid."

I blinked disappointedly, "What we don't get to blow shit up in public?" Hardly seemed fair. I hadn't had a good excuse to bring out the flamethrower for _weeks_. I saw a warm smile flicker over her face.

"Fine," she said, wrestling to be businesslike again, "We can do some damage street side but we gotta be quick. I don't wanna give Ultor anymore of a heads up than we have to."

We all stood in unison, Pierce and Shaundi quickly getting on their phone to the crew. Lil slipped close to me as we walked out of the restaurant, letting that smile play about her mouth again.

"I'm guessing you want to pick up the flamer?" she asked dryly.

I grinned down to her- "You know it."

* * *

><p><strong>Phew! I think I'm getting my rhythm back now...<strong>


	44. U: Grave Robbin' USA

**THE FINAL CHAPTER HAS BEEN WRITTEN!**

**Don't worry, this one isn't it. But this _does_ mean the official countdown has begun. I'm starting to get a little sad, actually. It's been a hell of a few months writing this bad boy… the word count is starting to scare me a little.**

**Anyhoo, here's a chapter I've been looking forward to; the FIRST chapter of the DLC package, Ultor Exposed! Yaaaay!**

* * *

><p>Jane's heels sunk into the damp earth as she clambered her way into a good shot, hand gripping the microphone tightly, eyes scanning the area for the most dramatic view.<p>

"Beckett," she called over her shoulder without looking, and the young camera man stumbled to keep up with the ambitious reporter, "Make sure you get a good shot of the smoke- isn't there a way we could get closer?"

"Nuh uh, it's way too dangerous," Beckett said, settling the tripod onto a rock. He huffed a little, none too pleased with having to trek all over mount Claphlan for the best footage, "C'mon Jane, they think parts of the mountain could start collapsing," he groaned.

Jane's bottom lip jutted out and she narrowed her eyes over the scene, settling for the view they had, "Fine. If you see any ambulances make sure you get a few good shots." She instructed. Beckett only nodded with exhaustion. For a few short minutes as they prepared, Jane started smoothing out her hair and suit, taking a deep breath and settling herself in front of the camera, a comfortable and familiar place. Beckett adjusted his headset and settled himself behind the camera, holding up his hand.

"Okay… and we're live in five, four, three,"

He silently signalled the last two numbers for the countdown, Jane lifted her chin, drew a breath and did what she did best;

"In a city that has known its fair share of chaos and destruction, a rare moment of peace was once again destroyed," she announced, her words streaming out through the city, "In an aggressive retaliation to Ultor's attempt at apprehending the notorious leaders of the Third Street Saints, the gang staged several large scale attacks on Ultor property and investments, culminating in one final act of terrorism.

In the late hours of the night, the earth shook, frighteningly reminiscent of the earthquakes that tore apart the city two years ago. The cause? A violent explosion under Mount Claphlan as a series of bombs believed to have been set by the Saints, unearthing Ultor's secret research and development facility. This amateur video, captured by Stilwater citizens, shows the terrifying moment as fire erupted from one of the secret entrances to the facility."

Jane straightened her shoulders again, watching the words glide up the prompter over the camera, "Though the Ultor Board of directors have yet to release a statement concerning the facility, it begs the question, has Ultor bitten off more than they can chew? We will bring you more as events unfold – I'm Jane Valderama, Channel six news."

She remained still for a moment before Beckett signalled a cut sign through the air, smiling broadly,

"… And we're out," he declared, and Jane relaxed back down, shifting on the loose ground beneath her. Beckett began checking over his camera, getting ready to get on the move again, "Nice job there Jane. Though uh, don't know what they're gonna say about the sign off there-"

Jane glanced away coolly, feigning blamelessness "I don't know what you mean."

"Well, you know how we're supposed to spin this one," Beckett reminded her cautiously, "Saints are the bad guys, blah blah. You're making it sound like Ultor are the losers here."

Jane waved a hand carelessly and strutted by her cameraman, amazingly balanced on her heels over the uneven ground, "The public loves tension – if we kept telling them everything was fine they wouldn't keep tuning in to watch. These Saints have been invaluable to my career."

"But-"

"-And consequently, _yours_," she shot over the top of her young workmate, who grimaced. The two had made a good pair, and Beckett knew what he owed to the nationally famous newsreader.

"I'm just sayin Jane, we gotta be careful," he said unhappily, thinking about his bosses. He hadn't been in the industry long, but he'd been involved long enough to know how the game was played in the media, "The Saints are used to being the villains, they're not gonna care if you make'm look bad. You put Ultor in a bad light, they're gonna do something about it."

Jane felt a twinge at that. She knew that becoming such a figure in such a huge media empire meant that her journalistic integrity could be put on the line; media networks could be bought and sold, making her just as much a commodity.

"Let's just try and get some more footage before sundown," she passed off, striding back down the trail to the news van.

* * *

><p>"<em>We will bring you more as events unfold – I'm Jane Valderama, Channel six news."<em>

A dark chuckle crept out of me and I glanced to Johnny who had a smile of self-satisfaction, and we bumped knuckles.

"Would'a liked a little more camera time than that," he said dryly and I shrugged.

"Don't worry; you're plenty infamous as it is. Pretty sure they'll pull some security footage from somewhere." I assured him and he nodded, still feeling bright from our mad adventure a few hours ago.

"Beer to celebrate?" he said with a mischievous smile.

I rolled my eyes, "It's nine _am_," I protested but we'd already left the office and started down the stairs.

"Don't you start doing that-" Gat suddenly warned, raising his eyebrows at me as we descended and I tilted my head in response.

"Doing what?"

"Behaving yourself. It's disgraceful." He said with a shake of his head before throwing me a wink over his shoulder and I couldn't hold back my smile. He was one or two steps ahead of me, and I found myself checking him out (he's got a nice butt) till I stopped as someone called out to me-

"Boss!" Shaundi's voice echoed quickly from the hall behind me, and I halted at the plinth, in front of the angel statue. Shaundi soon came into view, her familiar, lazy smile glowing over her face.

"Hey, there's someone here to see you," she said cryptically, "Some chick called Tera, she says she's got some dirt on Ultor."

I raised an eyebrow, and I heard Gat turn, retracing his steps.

"You sure this woman wasn't _sent_ by Ultor?" He asked warningly, "That asshole Vogel knows where this place is, remember."

Shaundi glanced over her shoulder, her lips twisting thoughtfully.

"No… she really doesn't look like she would be…" she decided, then tacked on, "And from what she's wearing it's pretty easy to say she'd not hiding any weapons."

Johnny and I shared an identical glance and then I looked back sharply to Shaundi. She was a pretty good judge of people, after all.

"Fine," I said regally, "Let her in."

Shaundi nodded and sauntered away and I shifted impatiently on the spot.

"You don't want me to meet this woman first?" Gat offered tensely and I noticed him starting to hover closer and having drawn himself up to his full height, "It sounds too convenient; you don't know what shit those Ultor fucks might try and pull,"

I shook my head, then started musing my thoughts aloud,

"Ultor's also the kind of company that would've made a lot of enemies – those enemies find out what we've been able to do to it wouldn't surprise me if they come to us."

Johnny went to continue but our attention was caught by the sound of heels clacking over the marble, announcing Tera's arrival.

The woman stepped elegantly down the stairs, somehow balancing with perfect grace on top of ridiculously high heels. For a half of a second I'd thought she was one of the strippers or hookers that tended to loiter in the hideout, being dressed the way she was. Her boots were skin tight black latex that finished half way up her thighs, her ass was scarcely covered by hotpants and her torso was tightly bound by a pink corset that could barley hold back her _massive_ rack.

Seriously, _massive_.

She was quite beautiful too – long black feathery hair and bronzed skin, and those weird half-cast features that I couldn't place. A little Asian, maybe Hispanic, I couldn't tell. Finally she stood before me, her almond eyes direct and cool.

"Hey, thanks for meeting me, I appreciate it," she said, her voice low and husky, sounding a little restrained. I only raised an eyebrow.

"You kidding me?" I said wryly, "I'm not passing up a chance to hurt Ultor. What you got for me?"

Tera kept her cool gaze on me; her face was weirdly expressionless, "I know about some things Ultor wants to keep buried." She said and I had to roll my eyes at that.

"Honey, I got shit to do," I said with a sigh, "I don't have time for poetics."

"Hey, who's being poetic?" She said quickly, "I'm talking about _bodies_."

I blinked, then felt a slight smile curl at the corner of my mouth, "Well why didn't you say so?"

Tera shrugged then pulled a folded piece of paper from her back pocket, handing it to me. It was a map of the south island, with little spots marked out with red crosses.

"These are burial sites – I can't get too close, they'd recognise me, but after seeing what you managed to do with the Pyramid, I figured you'd be interested."

Lifting my gaze from the map, I narrowed my eyes at her.

"Guarded?" I asked bluntly. She nodded solemnly,

"Yeah, but hopefully not too much. I don't think they'll be expecting anything," she finished. I studied the burial sites a little more closely – sniping the most of the guards should be the quickest and safest way of clearing them away.

"Right…" I said pensively, then glanced up to Johnny, "Gat, you wanna get the Alask- Gat?"

"Huh?" He blinked down at me and I felt an abrupt white hot flash of fury when I realised he'd been staring at Tera. Suddenly I felt the need to throw someone down the stairs-

Yikes… almost forgotten I was the jealous type.

"Go get the Alaskan ready," I growled, none too pleased with having to repeat myself. He blinked and raised an eyebrow at me.

"Sure thing Boss," he said, a flash of a smile hinting behind his eyes, starting up the stairs for the garage. He brushed past Tera at one point, and that _slut faced whore-bitch_ actually _made_ _eyes_ at him; skanky, flirty eyes-

I heard my knuckles crack and forced myself to chill. I was being irrational and embarrassingly insecure – I mean I thought I'd grown out of this stuff when I was seventeen for Christ sakes.

"What do you want me to do?" Tera asked lowly, falling readily (like so many others had) under my leadership. I glanced past her to Shaundi who'd settled herself at the top of the stairs, watching the conversation with a little curiosity and a _lot_ of amusement.

"You head down stairs and wait," I said coolly, and she gave me an offended blink.

"Seriously?" she whined, "You expect me to just-"

"Yes. I do," I said icily, "I don't know anything about you and I'm sure you can understand I'm not really the _trusting_ type." I nodded down the stairs and Tera held back a huff, then sauntered down. I watched her descend, and then waved Shaundi over and she strutted down to me.

"Keep her here," I said lowly as she leaned in to me, "If any of this turns out to be a trap," I said quietly as I could, then drew a finger sharply over my neck. Shaundi only nodded, message received, and trotted down the steps after Tera.

* * *

><p>I brushed my fingers over the locks of the casing that held my McManus. I hadn't used one in a while, though hopefully this'd be just like riding a bike. Johnny was driving, sitting back happily and comfortably in the car, seemingly oblivious to my tense mood.<p>

"… Do you know her from somewhere?" he suddenly broached and I looked over to him with raised eyebrows.

"No. Why, do you?" I pried coolly, gauging his reaction but he only shrugged.

"I dunno," he said with an agitated frown, "I keep thinking I've seen her somewhere before but I can't place it. Like maybe she was on TV or in a movie or something."

"If she was famous I think I'd know who she was," I said dryly, looking back out the window, waiting for the first site to come into view.

"Hmn… true," Johnny mused but he was cut off as my phone started ringing. I shifted in my seat and tugged it awkwardly from my back pocket, answering swiftly, "What?"

"_Hey, did you find the first body yet?"_

I frowned when I realised it was Tera's voice answering me, "It's been like thirty seconds, what's the rush?" I said with a sigh. Tera snapped back quickly at me.

"_Well I'd like you to find the damn things before a masako team comes after me."_ She said – her husky voice was difficult to follow over the phone though. Masako, huh? There was a lot more to this than she was telling me, and I hated being someone's puppet.

"How do you know about these bodies?" I pressed, and her answer was hesitant.

"_Does it matter?"_ she mumbled.

"Seeing as I'm about to get shot trying to get'm, _hell_ yeah." I growled back sharply.

"_I used to work for Ultor."_ Tera's voice sighed from the other end of the phone and I held down a dry laugh. _She_ worked for Ultor?

"… _How_?" I asked thoughtfully, "I didn't think Dane had girls like _you_ on retainer."

"_I worked at the Pyramid as a microbiologist you judgemental prick."_

"Micro what?" I pressed, not sure if I'd heard her right.

"_Read a book."_ She said with a sigh, and the control and rationality I'd been grappling for dried up pretty damn quick.

"Maybe if you didn't gargle sandpaper I'd be able to understand you properly." I seethed dryly and abruptly hung up on her. I couldn't help it… I really didn't like that woman.

"… _Reeeow_," Johnny said with a cheeky grin and I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Shut up," I muttered lowly, annoyed at myself for getting so wound up so quickly.

He reached over a hand and rested it on the back of my neck, and I felt his thumb work briefly at a knot, the annoyance I'd felt previously melting away. Till he decided to scratch me behind the ears and make a little purring noise and I batted his hands away, though all he did was chuckle at me.

The first site was in Shivington, a clear patch of land next to an old burnt out building. Of course... bury the bodies here, build right over the top of them. I realised then that Ultor must already by buying up the land in Shivington, a consideration that made me even more anxious to take this company down.

Johnny pulled up down the far end of the street, his previous casual demeanour evaporating as he glared at the bundle of Ultor guards prowling around the site, a patch of earth looking recently disturbed.

"Okay," I muttered, glancing up at the buildings, "If we get up onto that fire escape we should have clear shots of all of them… then we just drive down, dig up the bodies."

"Sounds like a plan. Always wanted to add _grave robbing_ to my list of extra curriculars."

"I don't think it's really grave robbing," I mused as we slipped out of the truck, sniper rifle cases in hand and we strode towards the fire escape on the side of the building.

"Well, what would you call it?" Gat asked as he wrapped his arms around my legs and lifted me up onto the first level of the fire escape rather than try and yank down the rusted old ladder. I slung my rifle case onto the grating and clambered onto the platform, turning and giving him a hand.

"I dunno," I grunted as I helped him up, "Body snatching? Grave robbing suggest we're gonna find some sort of treasure with these corpses."

Gat was about to start climbing up to the next levels of the fire escape when he flashed me his 'idea' smile, "Yo speakin of treasure," he said with a tempting tone, "I got fifty bucks that says I get more than you," he finished, throwing a nod over his shoulder to the guards. I raised an eyebrow thoughtfully – been a while since I'd had a good wager.

"… I don't keep small change on me," I cooed dryly as I started putting my rifle together and he chuckled, "Make it five hundred."

"Hey, only if you're sure," he said with a shrug, climbing up to the next level and started setting up his rifle, "You know I'd feel bad about takin' your money."

"Yeah, cos I'm so damn poor these days," I said and we both shared a sinister chuckle. Been a while since I checked the balance on my Swiss accounts, but I didn't really need to.

I slouched down on my belly, adjusting myself around the rifle and narrowing my eyes through the sights, glaring at the cross hairs on my targets.

"You ready up there?" I called out without looking.

"Been waiting for you girly," Gat's teasing words purred back down to me.

"Alright then. Three, two, _one-"_

Our rifles cracked simultaneously as I squeezed the trigger, the McManus jolting in my arms – a heartbeat later and I saw my target drop and I scrambled for the next shot, Gat's rifle cracking out a second before mine. In my hurry I'd missed the shot; the few guards that were left were scrambling now.

"That's two Boss," I heard Gat gloating and felt a hot wave of competitiveness, growling, reloading and firing again, grinning and taking out my target.

"Don't count your chickens boy," I jeered back, firing and reloading, seeing another guard hit the ground.

"Three!" we both shouted-

"Yo _I_ got that one!" Johnny snapped at me and I glared up at him about to correct him-

"Bullshit _I_ got him- hey!" I saw then he was already lining up his next shot and firing,

"Four!" he called out and I scrambled to get my next shot off, but I heard his rifle crack yet again, and by the time I hunted through the sights, there were nothing but bodies.

"FIVE! YES! I am the _king!_" he was jeering down at me. I rolled over and narrowed my eyes up at him, but my glare couldn't last.

"Could you be _any_ more immature right now?" I said with a laugh, and he looked down through the grated floor, grinning at me,

"Could you suck worse as sniping right now?" he heckled, "You couldn't hit the ocean from a boat!"

I rolled my eyes at him, "I let you win."

"Ah horse shit," he said, waving his hand and clambering down over the railing, the rifle slung over his back, "C'mon sore loser."

It was his smile that won me. When Gat was in one of his dangerous, 'playful' moods his temper was infectious. I grabbed my rifle and slipped off the fire escape, dropping to the ground.

* * *

><p>It was a bit of digging before we managed to get deep enough. It was also eerily familiar, standing next to Gat, shovels in hand and piling through the earth. The bodies hadn't even been cased in anything – my shovel cut right through the middle of the first one, and it was a moment of clearing away the dirt and clay before we could actually see what we were unearthing. The stench of the corpses hit me first and I quickly stepped back from them; Johnny threw his shovel to the ground in disgust when he saw them.<p>

"_Fuck_ this shit," he said, turning his shock into anger. I'd moved forward again, trying not to breathe through my nose and clearing away more dirt on the body, starting to feel sick when more of it was exposed… it took every bit of my self control to rally myself.

"C'mon," I said decidedly to Gat, "I need your help getting it out,"

"God damn… we should be getting kids who just been _canonised_ to be doin' this shit," he cussed and I rolled my eyes as he helped pull the body up from the earth,

"Then _call_ someone to do it princess," I teased – and that was all it took. He grunted, pulling the body out of the pit and taking all its weight. But as he did, the extent of what had happened to them became horrifyingly obvious. He dropped the body before I could get it to the truck and believe me I didn't blame him.

Whoever this person was, they were mutilated. No, _mutated_. His chest was huge and lumpy, overgrown like a wart and parts of his skin looked melted away. Gat was furiously brushing the dirt and other bits off his clothes, disgusted, and I began to feel nauseous; what if this was the result of some sick fucking biological weapon thing?

"What the _fuck_?" was all I managed to gasp to myself, and Gat soon stalked back over, standing over the body.

"Yo she said they'd been burying bodies," he said, waving an agitated hand at the mutant cadaver, "_This shit_, I didn't sign up for."

"You and me both," I growled, pulling out my phone and quickly scrolling for her number. She picked up after only half a ring, and we spoke over the top of each other instantly, "Tera-"

"_Calling to apologise?"_ she asked snidely, but I was too rattled by the twisted corpse at my feet to be bothered,

"What the hell did you do to these people?" I asked breathlessly, clicking the phone onto speaker so Johnny could hear, and he leant in, glaring at the phone.

"_I guess you found the first one huh?"_ she asked.

"No shit," Johnny shot at her darkly, "You better make with some fuckin answers and fast."

"_I owe you that much… Ultor's been experimenting with nanites,"_ she said and I frowned; I thought nanites were the stuff of science fiction but she sounded serious;_ "The goal was to increase a miner's lung capacity, when I saw what they were doing to volunteers…"_

"I understand," I said softly. And I did; I mean in my line of work at least people understood they were fucking with the bad guys, but there's no way normal people would want to be caught up in shit like this.

"Fine but… what the hell are we supposed to do with these things?" Gat said with a frown, "I ain't havin them in the hideout,"

"_When you get them all, drop the bodies off at Channel Six. Once the media runs this story, Ultor is finished."_

I nodded and hung up on her, then looked to Johnny, who was grimacing at the body at our feet.

"You better not be having second thoughts," I said with a little sarcasm to lighten the mood. He just gave me a quirky half smile.

"Hey now, who you think you're talking to?"

* * *

><p>Three burial sites and five bodies later, and I was <em>fucking done<em>.

"When I get inside, I'm showering then throwing up everything I've eaten in the last six months," I growled as we stepped into the elevator, absolutely fed up by this point. Gat and I were covered in dirt and other gross stuff I can't even _imagine_ what it was supposed to be.

"You're the one who likes getting her hands dirty," Johnny teased, but the stink from the five rotting corpses had managed to soak into our clothes and was dampening any attempt either of us made at lightening the mood.

"Changed my mind," I growled, and Johnny gave a disheartened nod. We started down the stairs and my gaze fell on Tera; she'd been relaxing back, long legs corssed elegantly, though her foot jiggled impatiently. Shaundi was perched on the arm of the sofa, gun in one hand and a joint in the other. Peirce was on the sofa opposite, and watching Tera with the same curious look I'd seen Gat giving her. I also began to notice there were more than a few Saints (mostly guys) loitering around than usual for this time of day…

When Tera spotted us she was quickly to her feet, strutting over and meeting us at the bottom of the stairs.

"Did you have any problems?" she asked swiftly, her nose crinkling, not that I could blame her.

"Nothing I couldn't handle," I said, lifting my chin and I could feel my spine straightening. Yes, yes, I wish I was taller…

"So whaddo we do now?" Gat asked, glancing from me to Tera.

"We wait for Jane Valderama to pick up the story," she said and I narrowed my eyes sceptically. I didn't like the idea of waiting around for anything in this situation.

"And if she _doesn't_ go for it?" I asked, and Tera visibly faltered.

"She will. She has to. Everyone hates a big corporation, and this story is too huge for her to pass up."

I wasn't won over. Ultor was regrouping; we couldn't hit them like this without them pushing back, and soon. The idea of them sweeping through our territory again and unleashing the Masako on my Saints was making me edgy. We had to work faster than this.

"Right. Whatever." I said, waving a hand at her dismissively, "You think of anything else you come straight to me, okay? Mean time," I paused, rallying all of my decency to say the next few words, "You can… crash here. It's a safe place to keep your head down, I figure Ultor will be looking for you. I wouldn't recommend leaving without an all clear, you know they'll be looking for you."

"Thanks," she said honestly, then I saw her eyes flicker about the room, "It's a really nice place you got here," she mused, before her appreciative gaze landed briefly on Gat, "I'm sure I could find _plenty_ to keep me occupied."

_IChangedMyMind_.

I held back from saying anything though. Gat wouldn't do anything with her, and saying anything to her about it would mean admitting to being… urgh, _threatened_. I was not a girl who was threatened, not by _any fucking thing_.

"Feel free to pick out a room then," I said swiftly, levelling a hard gaze on her, then looked pointedly to the rooms on the far side of the lobby, "_That_ way."

She shifted, a hint of a polite smile forced onto her lips as she turned on her heel and sauntered off, her hips swaying emphatically.

Pierce did a double take at Tera when she wandered past, giving the same curious frown Johnny did. I gave a tired sigh and slumped down into an arm chair. I felt Gat lean on the back of it.

"…Yo, who's that?" Pierce spoke up one Tera was out of ear shot, "I seen her somewhere before… like in a movie maybe."

"I know, I've been trying to place it too," Shaundi said, slipping off the arm rest and onto a cushion on the floor. She threw me a cheeky grin, giving the tension I could feel radiating from me a voice, "Watch out there Boss, I saw her makin' eyes at Gat."

Above me Gat only snorted, slumping down onto the arm rest of my lounge chair but I felt his eyes on me curiously. I force myself to look indifferent. Before I could think of something witty to say, Pierce piped up, giving us a broad, satisfied smile.

"Ah, so you'n Gat are _finally_ hooked up now?" he tried to confirm and the tension in my shoulders got a little worse. The thought of putting labels on anything just started turning what was already a tense situation into a fucking train wreck. Again, before either of us could comment, Shaundi shot out a quick laugh.

"Hey Pierce, you realise this means the Boss has made out with every one of her lieutenants _except you_?" she said and a surprised laugh jolted out of my chest. I grasped at the chance to lighten the mood.

"She's right," I said with a sigh, "C'mere Pierce!" I said with a laugh and quickly grabbed at his shirt sleeve-

"Argh! Fuckoff!" he yelped, twisting quickly out of my grasp, and next to me I heard Johnny chuckling, though it sounded pretty forced. I leant back into the cushions, and Pierce busied himself brushing off some dirt I'd left on him.

"Wait wait wait," he suddenly said, whirling on me, then looking to Shaundi, "– _you two _made out?"

"They did. It was awesome." Gat said matter-of-factly and Pierce just raised his eyebrows in some surprise, and then nodded sagely. I frowned at that;

"To my recollection it was more of an assault-" I ventured.

"Oh whatever Boss, you loved it." Shaundi said with a wink then blew me a kiss, but I didn't return the smile.

"Reminds me," Johnny said, nudging me, "Where's my five hundred bucks?"

"Oh, right… uh, just grab it from the safe," I said with a shrug, then with a sly smile I looked to Shaundi who'd tilted her head questioningly, "It's his going rate now."

* * *

><p><strong>Boss jealous! BOSS SMASH!<strong>


	45. U: Who Dunnit?

**Thanks all for patience. I can't begin to tell you how good it feels to have taken that little rest and have promised myself now I won't rush my chapters any more. I think I can put up better work that way.**

**I hope you like what I did with that chapter; I've been playing a bit of VTMB and other games (including Elder Scrolls. Love the Dark Brotherhood quests) and thought this could be a fresh, if slightly way of doing this mission.**

* * *

><p>By the next day we still hadn't heard from Valderama, and Tera was getting anxious. I'd tried to tell her to be patient, but now all she seemed to be able to do was skulk around the hideout in a bad mood.<p>

I couldn't care less. Yeah, if Ultor got itself a new asshole ripped by exposing their freaky experiments, great. But it wouldn't stop what was already happening in the red light district and Shivington. Ultor was spreading outwards like an infectious disease; I'd first noticed it when TeeNay, the strip club on the renovated boardwalk suddenly closed. On the boards out the front was a notice, indicating a 'luxurious and sophisticated new facilities' to be opening soon, the slogan surrounded by pictures of upper-middle class folks enjoying an upper-middle class lifestyle. The little Ultor star was signed in the corner. What's worse is that I was certain it wasn't the only property they were buying up; I'd received notices through one or two of my aliases that Ultor wanted to buy a few of the properties I'd bought in the area (they clearly had no idea who they were really talking to). It wouldn't be long now… they'd start with the businesses, sweep west into Shivington and buy the ruined, burn-out buildings… then send everything they had to eliminate Us.

I'd had Pierce and Shaundi call together their crews and then told them to phone-tree it down. By noon that day, the hideout was packed with local or long-term Saints, milling about and making the air buzz with their curious chatter. I'd locked myself away in my room for a few minutes to get my head together and wait for everyone to be there, till eventually there was a knock at my door, and Pierce poked his head around.

"Pretty sure that's everyone Boss," he said and I nodded mutely, getting to my feet. Stepping out into the hallway the noise pressed in hotly from all sides; I made my way down the stairs, people starting to hush as I did – Gat and Shaundi were already waiting by the statue on the mid level, quietly and seriously discussing something till they saw me. Gat gave a nod, then turned to face the milling crowd of purple below.

"Alright assholes listen up!" he suddenly called out, his voice deeper and echoing around the room and above the heads. The crowd suddenly quieted, and I stood quite still as Johnny continued, "Some of you mighta noticed that Ultor has decided to start fucking with us. Now if there's one thing history has taught us, it's that anyone who picks a fight with the Saints is likely to experience a ton of rapidly approaching ass-kickery."

A resounding cheer went up and someone fired a shot in the air, only to be quickly chastised when a lump of plaster fell down on someone else's head. I shot the small patch of people a cold look and they quickly pulled themselves in under my gaze. Johnny continued as the noise died down.

"You might be wondering what the fuck is happening that we gone from fuckin up gang bangers to rippin' apart a multi national billion dollar corporation. So pay attention, shits about to get complicated-"

He looked to me then, giving me a confident smile and stepping aside. I walked slowly to the centre, standing in front of my statue, quiet for a few beats till I was sure I had everyone's attention. The curious faces were all settled on me-

"… Ultor wants every Saint, every last one, dead or behind bars," I said. They were silent, and the room was cavernous; I didn't have to shout to be heard. That, and starting out softly was a good way to make sure everyone strained to hear you, "And from what you've seen you know they sure as shit are gonna go to any length they can to make it happen… I know a lot of you grew up on the Row, I know how many of you, your friends, your families, were turfed outta there with nowhere to go when Ultor took over," I continued gently, looking about at a few familiar faces, many of them nodding. I gave a slight pause before continuing, "And they're gonna do it again to Shivington and the projects," at that I heard a slight hush as a few Saints actually gasped, and angry murmurs amongst them. I used that anger now, and lifted my voice a little louder, "_As we speak_, they're buying up the land from under us and getting ready to sweep through again and try to take out _anyone_ who stands in their way. So before they do, we _will destroy them_."

The darkness of my own voice surprised me, let alone my listeners. Some gave a few aggressive shouts, and I fed from their growing energy, pushing them "Are you going to let those Ultor fucks throw you out of your homes?" I was answered by more angry shouts, "You gonna let them turf our people out so they can put a Starbucks on every corner?"

They roared back furiously at the thought and I felt a dark smile twitch at my lips.

"That's the fuckin spirit," I agreed, "Now you listen to me, I want you all ready. Artemis!"

Pierce's right-hand man blinked at me suddenly, eyes wide with surprise at being addressed directly, perhaps amazed I even knew his name, "You're in charge of training up for firearms," I said sternly and he nodded, "We might have plenty of weaponry but it aint worth shit if you can't shoot straight. You see a _single_ person holding their gun on the side or shooting from the hip, give'm a swift kick in the nuts. Not kidding."

I saw his shoulder shrug with a silent laugh and he nodded, "Okay. What if it's a girl?"

I threw my hands up with exasperation, "Then kick her in the cunt, I don't care if you loose a shoe!" a few laughs replied, but I ignored them, hunting out the next familiar face, "Wheeler!" I called out, and the Saint's number one racer smiled up at me excitedly when he realised he'd been singled out, "Get your best team together and get practising; we need scramble strategies and someone always ready to be called on for quick getaways. I also want those cars in top condition, go to any of the Rim Jobs I own, they'll set you up."

"No prah'blem!" he replied with a thick Brooklyn accent and signalling off a small salute.

I searched the crowd again with a scowl, "Tasha, Mongrel, Reece, you all here?"

I got a two 'yep's and three raised hands, "I want you guys training everyone in hand to hand, they gotta be in top fightin' condition, no one getting soft. Everyone, if you're not runnin a job, you're training. We might'a been badasses before but we've gotta be fuckin _invincible_ if we're gonna protect what's ours!"

I drew another breath, giving myself a moment to take in everyone's reactions. Most were eager, some were still looking about questioningly. But, orders were given; anyone who didn't want to comply would be out on their asses with nothing but the clothes on their back. But for every Saint who played ball-

"Now don't you guys worry about weapons or armour or anything," I said with assurance, "You're all taken care of. It's gonna be tough work, but we are gonna show those Ultor mutha-lickers they made a big fuckin mistake when they decided to fuck with the Saints!"

Fists were thrown into the air as the Saints replied with a gutsy war-cry. I know there were plenty in the gang who'd gotten restless after we'd taken out the other gangs, with no one left to fight, but now with a new enemy, many seemed invigorated. I smiled to myself, seeing the crowd

"God _damn_," Pierce muttered approvingly as I relaxed back, hands on hips. I shot him a straight look;

"Pierce, I need some numbers on how many Saints we need to kit out and how many are stayin here," I said quickly, "We're gonna have to feed'm as well-"

"Boss, you bank rollin' this army of yours?" Shaundi piped up, stepping towards me quickly. I had to admit, it was an odd question. I blinked at her.

"Yeah," Gat interjected flatly, "What else we gonna spend money on?"

"Shit, I can think of a _few_ things," Pierce said sarcastically and I rolled my eyes.

"Pierce I don't really need a gold-plated hot tub or an in-house movie theatre. I need a fucking army," I said shortly and he was quickly chastised.

"Right… well uh, I'll get to work on those numbers for you," he mumbled, turning and heading off down the stairs. I turned on Shaundi then.

"Shaundi, you're-"

"Strategies and intel?" she said with a lazy smile, then threw me a wink as she sauntered down the stairs after Pierce, "On it Boss."

There was a beat before I felt his eyes on me – Johnny was still leaning up against the marble railing, a hint of a dark smirk on his lips.

"… Waitin' for orders Captain," he said wryly and I tilted my head.

"_Captain?_"

"'Boss' is getting a bit old. Never expected it would catch on the way it did."

"Or that people would take it so seriously?" I replied with a cool smile, "Captain is a little naval for my liking."

Hi smile widened, "Not a fan of boats? It's ironic, the hipsters would love it."

"Stick to what you usually call me," I said, the smile breaking free on my lips and I shook my head, turning to look back out at the now buzzing and active crowd below.

"Hn, fair enough," he said as he wandered past behind me, though I felt him pause and leant in from behind and continued lowly, "Though I don't think 'oh fuck yes' is quite as catchy,"

I could only answer with a slight blush and swift elbow back, which he took with good grace, moving around me and down the stairs. Damn distraction.

* * *

><p>You know what's great about the Saints? When you Google us you don't find out details about our chain of command. Not so with Ultor; hell, their friendly website had profiles of all their smiling directors. No addresses or names of kidnap-able next of kin, but still, good to know.<p>

It wasn't my most profound method of investigation, but it was quick and a good start point. I wanted their faces fresh and imprinted on my memory so there would never be a doubt in my mind when it came to the hit.

Part of me wanted to go around, one by one and cross off each one of those names personally, like I used to with the old Hit Lists I did. Now, hits involved creative killing – you were out there on your own, sometimes there were specifications about how to carry out the contract… maybe you had to be quiet, use a knife, maybe you had to make it look like an accident. It was a craft; hits were a way I'd started out, when I realised how much money was to be made and was one of my first leg-ups out of poverty.

What else I liked was the fact it was a lone sport; total removal from the world, no gangs, no politics, only you and the life you had to take. When was the last time I'd been able to be totally alone? Even when I was painting people were calling me or coming in and talking to me, bugging me… hey, I had responsibilities, I got that, but…

"I need a holiday…" I murmured to myself, leaning back and scowling at the screen before me. If I decided to turn the board of directors into a hit list I could use it as an excuse to be left alone for a while – no one would question it and I'd still technically be fighting Ultor, it just wouldn't really feel like it. Johnny could take care of business back here, surely?

I glanced up from the screen when I heard footsteps, seeing Pierce crossing the carpet towards me, a manila envelope in hand, which he handed to me wordlessly. I raised an eyebrow at it-

"What's this?" I asked, unwilling to open it right away. It had 'SAINTS: Dear Leader' in small, fine print across the top of it.

"Dunno," he replied, "Found it here and it was addressed to you."

I felt him move around to the back of my chair to look over my shoulder as I slit the envelope open, pulling out a thin newspaper clipping. There was a picture of a yacht, with bold print, "ULTOR THROWS FUNDRAISING GALA".

I scanned the clip shortly – the gala was being held tonight on a boat off the east coast of the island, a lot of high-ranking and influential people were set to be there… and of course, many members on my unofficial 'Death List'.

"Lookin to crash a party?" Pierce asked dryly and I got up to my feet, still scanning the newsprint.

"Thinking about it," I murmured back, slowly pacing around my desk.

"Well your history with boats is pretty solid so uh, this seems like a pretty good idea," he said and I glanced back at him darkly. Invitation to a party on a boat, awfully familiar. Still, with so many targets in one locale, it'd be daft to pass the chance up. Best turn to the lieutenant who'd be my deepest well of intel.

"Alright. I'm gonna find Shaundi-" I said, walking from my office.

"Don't you care who sent it?" I heard Pierce call out after me.

"Nope."

"But it's probably a trap!"

"Yep."

* * *

><p>"The yacht will be under escort by a handful of security boats; I'm estimating two or three but seeing how close they'll be sailing to the Ultor Marina base we can guess they'll get backup quickly, not to mention any rescue choppers they decide to send out." Shaundi said, scrawling over a piece of road map that showed the largest section of water next to the Row. It had only taken her a half hour to track down an old friend at the docks; she had by now pretty well secured herself as my go-to when it came to information.<p>

"Make it harder to get on the boat after it's left too…" I muttered discontentedly, "What are the chances of getting on before it leaves the docks?"

"Slim to none without an invite," she said, resting her elbows on the bar top, a thumb to her chin thoughtfully.

"We could try getting on as wait staff…" I mused. I'd carried out a stealth hit like that once when I was about nineteen. Pretended to be a drinks waitress (some men just can't hold their arsenic…)

"No can do," Shaundi said with a shake of her head, "Private contracting on crew and all service people, no new faces allowed."

I sighed, "Guess they anticipated that then…"

"…There is another option." Shaundi ventured. I raised an eyebrow at her tentative tone.

"What?"

"Entertainment." She replied flatly. I gave her a long look and she continued, "Some'o my girlfriends have worked Ultor parties before, sometimes dancing, sometimes just sitting on the laps of filthy rich old men and having drinks bought for them and five dollar bills suck into their underwear. It's all refined till about midnight, but then the old bastards start getting grab-assey and need a little extra company."

"You're saying there's gonna be hookers on this cruise?" I asked, interested.

"It's not something they'll advertise, but yeah," she said with an easy nod, "What better way to charm the old moneybags into donating? Not to mention, it'll be the only thing they're not regulating…"

I blinked, then gave her a long glance, "…You want me to sneak on board as a hoo-"

"Lady of the evening, yes."

I thought on it for a moment; seemed to be the easiest way to get on board. And a good way to get close to some of the old codgers.

"… Alright," I consented, though added with an afterthought, "Don't know where I'm gonna hide my gun, but alright."

I stood up, ready to head to my room and start, well, dressing up like a high-class hooker when Shaundi piped up behind me.

"Hey, I'm coming too!" she called out.

Oh _balls_. "I can handle this one Shaundi," I threw over my shoulder, but she didn't give up, getting to her feet and following me up the stairs of the hideout,

"Boss it's been _ages_ since we've hung out, c'mon! I wanna have some fun!" she said with a pout, then glanced as me slyly when she noticed me begin to slow, "… I'll say bitchy things about Tera on the way-"

Hmn. Tempting. "No."

"It's a whole boatful of people you'll need backup!"

"Shaundi-"

"Are you seriously saying after _everything_ we've been through you still don't think I can handle it?" she said, quickly putting herself in my way and I had to halt.

"This hasn't got anything to do with you!" I interrupted her, and she lent back, folding her arms across her petite frame. I felt my shoulders drop; she was right, another set of eyes on that boat wouldn't hurt, and my wanting to pull the lone-wolf routine was clouding my judgement.

"Fine. I'll need to borrow a dress anyway," I said, brushing past her. I heard her give a short laugh after me.

"You don't have one?" she called out and I glanced quizzically over my shoulder at her.

"_Had_. It got shredded when I was jumped by the masako," I informed her, "Aside from that, you _ever_ seen me in a dress?"

Shaundi just smiled, shaking her head and trotting after me.

* * *

><p>It was going to be a nice evening; winter was broken, and though the air was crisp it wasn't bitingly cold. The skies were clear and Venus winked at us, waiting for the rest of the stars to come out. I walked with Shaundi down the wooden docks towards where the huge yacht was docked, finely dressed people milling about and getting ready to board. I crushed the uneasy feeling in my stomach as I felt the déjà vu washing over me.<p>

"Can I just say again, I _love_ that wig on you." Shaundi said sweetly, her arm linked with mine. I had to admit, she was _smokin. _She had a strapless black, slit-to-there dress on and her dreadlocks were covered by a long sheer veil that she somehow managed to make sexy instead of modest. It wasn't just to cover the dreads to look classy; I knew for a fact she was actually hiding vials of drugs and poison _in her hair_. Clever girl!

I'd donned old trusty red, the strawberry bob wig, and a fitted red dress I'd only _just_ managed to fit into. It was fine around the middle, but I was a bit more tits-and-ass than Shaundi was so it was taking some adjusting. Lighter on the eye makeup too, and bright red lipstick on that I thought made me look like a clown but Shaundi insisted was sexy.

"Yeah, it's pretty cute," I said, twisting a short lock into a curl over my cheek, "Wondering if I should expand my collection. Blonde, maybe?"

Shaundi shook her head, "You don't have the skin tone for that."

"I guess I am a bit pale…" I said as I glanced down briefly at my skin and Shaundi nudged me affectionately.

"Hey, sickly is the new sexy."

We both fell silent when we reached the crowd, trying to look inconspicuous as we passed them, heading towards a second boarding bridge further down. There was no crowd there, but it was still guarded by one Ultor cop. We slowed when we reached him, and I slouched on my hip, trying to look sexy.

I don't think I actually look sexy when I _try_ to look sexy though.

"Hey honey," I said, trying to sound husky and Shaundi batted her eyelashes at him.

His eyes glanced briefly to my tits before snapping back up to my face, "Guest entrance is down the other end mam."

Mam. He _mam'd_ me. "Miss," I corrected hotly, "Scarlet. And Mr. Vogel asked that we don't actually board with the other guests."

He shifted uncomfortably under my gaze and glanced from me to Shaundi, "And you are…?"

"I guess you could say we're tonight's _incentives_," Shaundi said sweetly with a hint of a playful giggle. I should be taking notes from her…

"Cookie, the man don't have time for word games," I said tiredly, checking my nails pointedly as I slipped into my role a little more comfortably.

"No, no, I understand," the guard said quickly, if a little uncomfortably, "Mr. Phillips usually handles this side of the entertainment but huh, please, step aboard," he said, moving aside and feeling now much more free to stare at our good stuff. I wanted to gouge out his fucking eyes, but then, that was just me. I'd half been expecting a pat-down, but then, I guess our dresses were so tight he didn't have to. Good thing too – otherwise he might have noticed the knife taped to the inside of my thigh.

"Do we get a room key or just go with whatever's available?" Shaundi threw over her shoulder as we made out way up the boardwalk to the boat. He faltered and cleared his throat.

"Huh… I can radio the steward; you can talk to him about that," he assured us and I forced a smile.

"Thanks sugar," I said with a wave of my hand, and we stepped onto the boat deck.

"… Cookie?" Shaundi asked me dryly and I nodded with a mean smile.

"That's your name now."

She snorted, "Okay _Miss Scarlet_." She finally unhooked her arm from mine, sticking both hands on her hips, "So, we get our bearings, pick a room and…"

"Do what we do best."

* * *

><p>It was about half an hour before the yacht finally set sail, and I'd snagged two champagnes from a passing waiter as soon as I saw we were leaving the dock. <em>Hate<em> boats…

"Oh thanks," Shaundi said happily and took one of my glasses. I was about to tell her they were both for me, but it was probably a good idea for me to be as sober as possible for this task. I took a hearty mouthful and leant against the railing of the boat, avoiding the looks of as many people as possible. I watched as the sea foam began kicking up as the boat picked up speed, and behind us the softly twinkling lights of the docks shrunk. Shaundi had been leaning against the railing with me, but facing the crowd, taking them all in. At my long silence, she continued talking.

"So, when do we start?" she asked calmly. I glanced sidewards at her and was a little surprised; though she was calm and motionless, it wasn't her usual laid-back care-less attitude. It was still and calculating as she studied the crowd.

"When we're a little further out and everyone's had a bit more to drink," I assured her, pointedly taking another mouthful of champagne. Another small silence hung before I continued, "You know, as much as I hate boats this cruise really doesn't seem so bad. Ocean air, five hundred dollar champagne… maybe we should've brought a few more girls with us."

Shaundi gave a lyrical chuckle next to me, throwing me a familiar smile, "Even _Tera_?"

I blinked, lifting my chin with what I hoped was refinement and indifference. "Would've been good to get her out of the hideout for a while…"

"Yeah, she would've easily passed for a hooker," Shaundi said with a nudge. I knew she didn't think of Tera like that but she was egging me on anyway, I could feel it. She didn't stop either- "You know, for a woman who puts on her makeup with a spatula."

"Shaundi, I'm not doing this," I replied lightly with a hint of snobbishness, "It's childish and petty and entirely unfounded."

Chastised, she looked away. I found myself tapping my foot in the sudden silence and continued:

"I didn't say _you_ shouldn't."

"Ohmaigahd how fake are her tits, right?" She said with a sudden laugh as she turned to me and I snorted as I tried to hold back my laugh.

"You're sweet," I said with a nudge and she winked at me. I turned away from the water and let my gaze fall back on the party.

"You locate any of them?" I asked. Shaundi nodded, quickly back to business.

"So far, I seen Goldstein, Zhao, Kingston, Burke and Chesterfield," she assured me, "Could be more, but not that I seen so far."

I nodded, taking a calm sip of my champagne. "Okay," I said quietly, "We go by opportunity. Kingston we might have to follow, Burke shouldn't be a problem to lure. The others… get some booze into them I suppose."

Shaundi nodded, pleased enough with the plan, "Alright then. Let's mingle."

* * *

><p>The plan was tricky. I had considered an all-out massacre on the boat, but I wanted to save our resources. Going big-scale would take a lot of troops and I didn't want to wear them out just yet. So, We find our targets, get a room, quietly take them out one by one and try not to get noticed doing it, storing the bodies in the bedroom. Shaundi was surprised when I said that, expecting us to be dumping them overboard but I insisted that was the second option of disposal. I didn't tell Shaundi the last part of the plan, or why I wanted the bodies hidden in that room. Might give her nightmares.<p>

Shaundi had already been able to get close to Zhao; he'd taken a real shine to her, and given a little more time he shouldn't be too hard to entice away. However, I gave her a short signal when I noticed one of our little sheep separating herself from the flock, and quickly followed, feeling Shaundi following at a short distance.

Target One. Amelia Kingston, forty two, head of PR and senior member of the board. I followed her quietly through the narrow hallway – she slipped into a bathroom and I went in after, seeing her lock herself away in a cubicle. I twisted my mouth, heading for the sinks and taking out a small purse, hunting for some sort of makeup stuff and pretending to gussy up. After a beat I heard her flush and she stepped out, sidling up next to me and inadvertently shoving me out of the way as she went to wash her hands. I blinked at her reflection in the mirror and smiled at it.

"…Mrs Kingston?" I asked curiously. Her gaze met mine coldly in the mirror and she shook her hands dry.

"Can I help you?" she asked, though the tone said 'don't talk to me whore'. I tilted my head sweetly.

"I just wanted to say how much I admire your work," I said softly. She blinked at me haughtily, "It mustn't be easy in a man's world."

"No," she said decidedly, adjusting a very nice and rather expensive looking diamond necklace, then turned and gave me a hard stare, "Not if you're _letting_ it be a man's world."

Wow… this woman was a ball-buster. I'd let myself truly admire her if I didn't have to kill her in a matter of seconds. She brushed past me, and once her back was to me I pulled a retractable wire from my bracelet and silently slipped out of my heels.

"…Right," I said softly, "It's all about equality."

I closed in on my prey in two quick steps and looped the wire over her head and around her throat, pulling back sharply. The woman tried to yelp but couldn't; she flailed weakly against me but I only pulled tighter. She threw out a foot and it loudly kicked the door and I quickly walked backwards, wrestling her to the ground. I held on. I held on and watched as the woman's face slowly turned blue and her swollen tongue slip from between her lips and her eyes were dead and bloodshot. The kill took the breath out of me… it had been so long since I'd taken a life like this, so slowly and up close. It was almost exhilarating, _fascinating_ to watch. The body was limp beneath me, and eventually I released the wire and stood, freeing a shaky breath. I quietly took a few steps back over the cold tiles, slipped my heels back on then crept to the door, knocking softly.

"Shaundi, we clear?" I cooed, waiting for her answer…

* * *

><p>Shaundi leant against the wall of the narrow hallway, glancing nervously towards the bathroom door. Another woman, her mousey hair bound up tightly into a beehive and wearing a dress that cost more than a blue-collar salary, soon came up and looked to her quizzically.<p>

"Ugh, lines, really?" she said with a good deal of dignified annoyance. Shaundi gave a sympathetic roll of her eyes.

"I know. You'd think they could have found a boat more accommodating, there's a few more waiting inside…" she said with a sigh and the other woman threw her hands up. Shaundi shifted, "I think there's another bathroom on the next deck up?"

THUD. Both women looked to the bathroom door as it violently jolted and Shaundi forced a cheeky smile.

"Ooh, sounds someone's had a bit too much already!" she said tapping the other woman on the arm. The party guest just put a hand over her mouth to hide her scandalous smile.

"Well, I'm going to try upstairs," she said, quickly trotting off, probably to tell people about the drunkard in the bathroom. Shaundi waved her off then bit her lip as she looked back to the door.

"… Shaundi, we clear?" she heard the Boss query lowly from the other side of the door. She spared a quick glance up and down the hall.

"Yep, c'mon…" she said and the door slid open – after a moment she saw the Boss hoisting the body of Amelia Kingston up and quickly moved to help her, sparing one more nervous glance down the hallway before the swiftly dragged her towards the reserved bedroom.

* * *

><p>"Miss Scarlet, in the bathroom, with the retractable wire!" Shaundi grunted with a wry smile as we stuffed the corpse into the wardrobe, sliding the door closed over it. I couldn't help but grin and shake my head, looking about our room. It was nothing special; taupe with fresh modern furniture and a queen sized bed, hints of a nautical theme but that was about it. Functional, pleasant, modern, dull. Very Ultor. I noticed with a dark smile a few objects, walking over to a small dresser.<p>

"Hmn. Cookie, in the bedroom… with a candlestick?" I offered with a laughing smile as I held up a beautiful glass candlestick and Shaundi cupped a hand over her smiling mouth. I continued after a beat, "So far so good. Let's see who goes next."

_Richard Burke. Fifty nine and Managing Director. Tripped and drowned in a toilet he forgot to flush._

_Lee Zhao. Thirty five. Head of HR and youngest member on the board after Dane Vogel. Followed my ass to the bedroom but didn't duck fast enough when the base of a glass candlestick flew at his head._

_Rudy Goldstein. Fifty one. Head of development, senior member of the board. Seen being sick over the side of the boat; accidentally ran into a knife seven times and fell overboard._

_Marianne Chesterfield. Thirty nine and Director of product development. Tragically forgot she was allergic to lethal doses of PCP and accidentally drank a champagne glass containing it._

With a grunt we lurched Chesterfield's body onto the bed; foam was spilling from her mouth and her eyes rolled in her skull. Shaundi grunted, wiping a little sweat from her brow.

"Okay. Now what?" she said with a huff, sticking her hands onto her hips, but I was already dragging Zhao out from under the bed, and, curious, Shaundi went to the closet to let Kingston and Goldstein flop out onto the carpet.

"Now… things are gonna get messy," I said, wincing as I un-taped the knife from my leg again, narrowing my eyes at Shaundi, "Go check out escape route. I'll be with you soon."

"What are you going to do? She asked inquisitively. The time when I might have shrugged her off was done.

"Killing them isn't enough… we need to make a statement," I said darkly then looked over to her, "But I want it to be a surprise. Don't worry. I'm taking pictures."

Shaundi tilted her head and smiled, but didn't push it, only turning on her heel and slipping out of the door, carefully locking it behind her. I turned to the bodies, twirling my knife between my fingers. I didn't have much time; pretty soon the rest of the party-goers would begin to notice a few faces were missing and I had to get off the boat before they really started looking. I dragged Chesterfield's body half off the bed so her head rested on the carpet, resting a hand under her neck to expose the skin a little more, and slowly dragged my knife across it. With no heartbeat, I'd have to use gravity to get the blood out of the bodies. Slowly, the wine-red liquid began to seep over the cream carpet and I turned to the dresser, quickly reaching out for a vase that I tipped the flowers out of, holding it to her neck and letting it slowly fill. I know I should have thought of this as macabre, but as I began throwing the blood onto the walls, I found myself enchanted; it was like a Jackson Pollock, I thought with a smile. I guess it takes a special kind of person to see past the horror and find the poetry; when I was in school and learning to draw I used to use pieces of bone for still life, singular vertebrae being my favourite. I loved the shapes; I thought it was fascinating that an object so strange and alien was actually the structure of every human.

By the time I'd drained the second body I guessed whoever found this room wasn't going to see things my way. Not that I cared, that was kind of the point. Still, I couldn't help but feel a maudlin sense of pride in my work when I was done, even as I began washing the blood from my hands and arms in the cramped ensuite. The last two bodies I just slit the neck of and hoped they'd still manage to drain alright onto the carpet, I didn't have time to get creative with them.

Breathlessly I slipped out of the room into the thin hallway, carefully closing the door behind me; a jolted a little as I heard a loud laugh and a couple went barrelling down past me, both drunk and I'm guessing not paying attention to the shifty looking hooker with bloodstains on her dress. I cringed in disgust as the man, pudgy, sweaty and old grabbed the woman's ass as she stumbled into another bedroom, forcing a smile over her inebriated face as she grabbed him by the tie, tugging him in after her. Amazing I could find them so vile after what I'd just done… wordlessly I continued down the hall, decidedly eager to get off this damn boat now my work was done, rounding a corner and shoving the door open to the deck, the crisp air suddenly racing over my skin along with a salt spray as the boat chugged slowly onwards through the water. My heels clacked softly over the wood as I walked briskly to the stern, carefully moving down the stairs, which led to a flat sort of dock that sat at water level. Shaundi was already waiting, barefoot and her dress tied up onto her hips. She waved me over when she saw me and moved quickly to one of the little speedboats that were tied up at the side of the small dock, jolting awkwardly as the yacht dragged them over the ocean. She already had one running, and was wordlessly untying it.

I slipped quickly into the small waiting speedboat and helped her in after me; we were quiet, focused more on making out quick getaway- once the ropes were freed, our little boat dropped back, and the yacht charged on without us. Shaundi watched it go, her eyes distant in thought, so I moved to the controls and revved the engine, turning the boat in the water and heading back home.

In the distance over the sound of wind and water and the roaring engine, was a soul-rending scream from onboard the yacht. I glanced over my shoulder with a dark smile.

"I guess they found my artwork then," I said with a soft smile as we turned down the canal between the two islands.

* * *

><p>I think we both breathed a sigh of relief as we reached the small Bavogian Plaza docks and stepped back home into the raw and grungy red-light and projects district. Behind us in the distance was the roaring of helicopters and screaming of sirens as, I supposed, the yacht was being swamped by cops. I was feeling good; it had been an interesting and productive night, and the scum of the city welcomed us back each in their own wonderful way; a homeless junkie reached out a hand and I tossed him a note I had stuffed down the front of my bra (hey, success had put me in a philanthropic mood). A hooker blew us a kiss from her doorway and we politely waved it off. And the crazy prophet was out tonight, baying at the moon and waving his red and white sign above his head-<p>

"The end is nigh!" he shouted blindly into the air, though there were no people around to hear him, "The earth is expelling the dead from within her, they rise! _They rise!_"

Weirdly I found myself smiling at him; Ahh, my people… he rounded his bulging eyes to me, crying out his own welcome home,

"Woman! There are _deeemons_ inside you!"

"Yeah," I said serenely, "We actually have a very symbiotic relationship."

I heard Shaundi chuckle peacefully next to me as we passed him and he continued screaming his prophetic nonsense to no one.

"… So. Good girl's night out, Miss Scarlet?" she asked, turning to smile easily at me.

"Certainly was Cookie."

* * *

><p><strong>I've always thought bitching about girls behind their back was unsisterly and petty, but hey, it happens, no point denying it.<strong>

**AND YES I realise I stole yet another of MDGeistMD02's characters. Everyone say hello to Artemis ;) **


	46. U: Stranger Things

Shaundi yawned slowly, stretching her petite from out and rolling over, a soft smile on her face as she opened her eyes. She then blinked when her gaze caught something glittering from the bedside table, and couldn't help but chuckle when she realised what it was. Reaching out, her hand closed around the little Lindt Easter bunny, and she rolled back over, crawling her torso back onto Reece's.

"The Easter Bunny hasn't visited me since I was eight," she said dryly, and eyebrow raised. Reece just smiled back at her and shrugged.

"Maybe you've been a good girl this year?" he offered and Shaundi couldn't hold back her smile, carefully peeling back the gold paper from the chocolate rabbit.

"That's Santa," she corrected, snapping a piece off and pressing it between her lips, then broke another bit, dropping it into Reece's waiting mouth. They shared a short silent smile, and Shaundi reached up onto him, pressing a sweet kiss onto his lips – soon the chocolate bunny lay next to them all but forgotten.

"Hmm," Reece mumbled with a smile between kisses, brushing a lock of hair out of his new girlfriend's eyes, "You know, never got what bunnies and chocolate eggs have to do with Easter," he said with a frown. Shaundi tilted her head.

"They're pagan," she informed him matter-of-factly, "Used to be people'd celebrate the Spring equinox by feasting on rabbits and eggs cos, y'know, it's Spring and there was shitloads of rabbits and eggs."

"Oh really?"

"Mhmm," she replied, pointedly breaking off another bit of chocolate and slipping it onto her tongue, "They'd also dance around maypoles and have massive orgies."

Reece laughed at that, moving his arms possessively around her narrow waist; "Can't imagine how _that_ tradition failed to carry over," he mused.

Shaundi spared him one sly look, "Well… maybe for some people," she said, leaning up and kissing his neck. Reece smiled and breathed in slowly, allowing himself to wonder, not for the first time, how he managed to get so lucky. They both jolted, however, at a sudden and intrusive noise, a loud hammering from the front door echoed through the house.

"Wh'th'hell?" Shaundi mumbled, propping herself up but the thumping continued. Reece put a hand on her shoulder, sitting up and gently moving her off him as he growled softly at the door-

"Stay here baby I'll get it-" he said with a frown, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and swiftly grabbing his jeans, yanking them quickly up over his legs and hips. But Shaundi still slumped out of the bed, pulling his oversized shirt over her head and following him out of the room towards the front door that rattled every time it was struck.

"Shaundi!" The voice blurted from the other side and she suddenly pushed past Reece, racing for the door.

"Boss-?" she exclaimed then threw the door open, her jaw dropping a little in surprise. The Boss stood there on the threshold, dark circles under her eyes and a hand clamped over her throat. Her gaze was steely and she pushed past her Lieutenant into the house, ignoring Reece totally.

"Boss, what _happened?_" Shaundi breathed, closing the door and following her leader towards the kitchen, where the woman was one-handedly yanking cupboards open, her left palm still firmly clamped over her neck. Shaundi felt a hand slip over her shoulders and looked to Reece with as much concern as he did.

Eventually the woman gave the tiniest sigh of relief when she located a bottle of Bacardi, twisting the cap off with her teeth and taking a deep swig, grunting and settling the bottle down heavily onto the counter. After a beat she looked up to the others haggardly, as if only just realising they were even in the house.

"… I needed a drink," she said flatly, gingerly rubbing her neck then blinked out the window to the rising sun and cringed, "I need a fucking _joint…_"

"Shit…" Shaundi muttered, going quickly to an open cupboard and grabbing a cookie jar, twisting the cap off and hunting around through her stash. Reece edged about uncomfortably for a moment – he'd never seen the Boss this freaked out and it was starting to rub off on him.

"Boss, you need me to do anything?" he asked worriedly as the woman snatched the joint from his new-girlfriend's hands, lighting it impatiently from the gas stove top.

"Yeah," she said distractedly, "… no… just go away."

Shaundi blinked; that was discourteous, even for the Boss, or at least when she was speaking to Reece after some of the jobs they'd done. She then looked over her shoulder to Reece apologetically but he just nodded and moved quickly away to the living room. Shaundi rounded back on the Boss who was cringing and sucking back hard on the joint, holding the smoke in and frowning. Shaundi sighed and leant against the counter patiently, raising her eyes at the other woman.

"… This had better be a good story," she said, trying her hand at being cheeky and the Boss suddenly gave a very uncomfortable, short laugh.

"You'd think I was crazy if I tried to tell you…"

"Boss, I already think you're crazy," Shaundi said gently with a comforting smile; she was trying to be calm, but in truth she was really quite worried; she rarely ever saw the Boss rattled and when she did, it was never anything good.

The Boss looked up to Shaundi slowly, dark circles under her pale eyes. Gradually, she let her hand slip from her neck, revealing a patch of eerily grey skin muddled with white, half-moon scars. Bite marks.

"… Not this kind of crazy," she whispered, her eyes becoming distant as she dropped back into the memory…

* * *

><p>Rounds Square. Stupid name if ever I've heard one. That's not to say I don't have fond memories of the place; killing the General with Shaundi and closing the whole mall down for weeks after that had been a real adrenaline rush. And looking at it now you wouldn't have guessed anything had ever happened.<p>

The statue in one of the fountains was different; newer. And some areas of the floor appeared a little brighter the spots where the tiles had been replaced. Aside from that, everything was normal. Old folks shuffling around, mall-walkers in lycra wiggling their way from end to end, goth kids slouching around the food court and hanging out the front of _Nobody Loves Me_. Or at least they would have been, if they weren't now screaming and running for their lives as I opened fire into another shop, seeing the body of another one of my targets dance and jerk as I pumped him full of bullets before dropping to the ground.

Ultor late-night shopping, fixed for Thursdays, the day after most people's paycheques went in. Gat had called and told me about this one; what was left of the Ultor board of execs were here tonight, doing a little shopping and letting the city know that everything was A-Okay and that their company wasn't scared of some bangers.

_They should have been_.

Tracking the assholes down was easy enough – each one of those them had a team of about three guards around them. Not armoured masako, just regular guys who dropped like flies when they were hit by bullets from my semis.

But that isn't the story… going from shop to shop with two Saints for backup, taking out each one of those jerkoffs… that's duck hunting compared to the rest of the night. It wasn't till we were leaving that the night got… bizarre.

Wheeler and some of his drivers were already waiting in the parking lot and clambering into identical purple Hammerheads (beautiful muscle cars that they are) when I got there. The Ultor backup would be closing in, I knew that, but they'd only be expecting _one_ getaway car…

Not ten.

I ordered the two Saints who'd been with me in the mall into separate cars, meaning I was alone in my Hammerhead, but not worried. I clicked my talkie on as I revved the engine and began racing behind Wheeler through the narrow parking lot, our team behind us.

"Okay guys, you know the drill and which directions to take," I spoke through the receiver, "As soon as we're out of there, scatter. Once you're safe, switch cars, rendezvous back at Purgatory."

A few consents crackled back to me in reply and we hit the final ramp, slamming the gas when we saw the two Ultor Five-O's trying to block the exit. Wheeler's Hammerhead ploughed between them like a tank and we all fired out after him – the utter confusion it created with the few cop cars was laughable as they tried desperately to disperse after each one of us.

I had two on my tail, and I drifted around a corner, leaving only one left to chase me down as the other kept racing on after another identical car. It was exhilarating, the cold wind whipping through the open window as I casually leant my gun out with one hand, spraying a few warning shots off at the cop car behind me that swerved to avoid being hit; a few bullets landed on the hood of his car and the engine started to smoke, but he didn't give up. As I hit a long stretch of straight road I grinned, heart thumping as my thumb brushed over the little red button on my steering wheel-

And I hit the Nos. My car suddenly lurched forward, screaming down the road and I couldn't help but let out an exhilarated whoop as I left the other car in the dust. A satisfied breath pulsed from my chest the moment I realised I'd lost them; it was only as I sped through an intersection I realised I was wrong.

There was no sounding of a horn or siren – only the blinding glare of halogen headlights from my right as the blacked-out Ultor SUV suddenly appeared, engine roaring as it slammed into the side of my car.

From there I can only remember the scraping of metal and shattering of glass as I was shaken through the car like a ball bearing in a can of spray paint; I heard something snap, the road wrapping itself around the car in circles, slowing, rocking, then still, the metal softly creaking around me. I opened my eyes slowly and the blood rushed to my head, only then I realised I was hanging upside-down in my seat.

_Good thing I had the windows wound down_, strangely the only thought that could get through my aching head at that point. Well, it minimised the amount of glass. The windshield was cracked, but still intact. Like most of our cars it and the frame had been reinforced and good thing too, or else I might have been crushed and trapped in this thing… didn't change the fact I now felt like a squashed cockroach.

Stunned, I fumbled weakly for my seatbelt, unclipping it and carefully as I could dropped my body onto the ceiling of the car, then slowly began pulling myself out of the window. My limbs complained of what I tried to tell myself were nothing more niggling cuts and bruises which I forced myself to ignore but as I tried to move my left arm-

_Oh Christ!_

I could barely move it. I looked down, hoping that it was only dislocated and for half a moment I thought it was, but when I saw the strange angle it hung at, the lump in my upper arm… I shook and let out a groan, wishing I hadn't looked at it as realised I'd snapped my fucking humerus like a god damn twig. The pain was only increasing now, swamping my senses and begging me to pass out; another hot pain in my leg intruded cruelly into my mind and I could only imagine what else might have been broken on me…

Flashing, white lights in my eyes as I was half way out of the car, and I could hear footsteps and shouting. I glared up through the lights at them; Masako foot soldiers, five or six of them, all with rifles pointed right at my head…

My gun? I flailed my hand blindly for a weapon, tried to pull myself together. They hadn't shot me yet, there was a chance I could still get out of this…

"C'mere bitch!" one of the grunted, his voice muffled through his helmet and he grabbed a fistful of my hair, dragging me from the car. I felt a small weak noise gurgle from my throat – stupid body was in shock, stupid, useless broken body… it was when the boot of one of the soldiers hit me squarely in the stomach I realised there was a reason they hadn't killed me yet. Also a reason why they hadn't called their capture in.

"Killed my best friend, you know that bitch?" One of them was snarling at me through his visor, and I could hear the others egging him on. That hand was at my throat now, pulling me up to be face to face with him – I could only just see his eyes through the blacked out visor over his face – his fingers convulsed a little.

"Think your so fuckin' invincible, don't you?" he growled, barely audible over the sinister laughs of his masako buddies. I willed myself to be still – pointless flailing was not going to get me anywhere; any other time I might have been strong enough to take out a few of them before getting my hands on a weapon, but right now I knew my body would fail me if I tried and even slightly moving that arm was going to be hell. I had to think, had to be aware. Let them get their guards down…

The guy kept talking, "Think you're so fuckin special, but _you're fuckin nothing_. Nothin' but a piece of pussy that keeps getting lucky."

He was grabbing at me now, pulling me up and starting to drag me, the others following. I didn't have to see their faces to see their expressions. As they dragged me off the road and to a narrow alley between two tall buildings, a horrible sick feeling began welling in my stomach and something inside started screaming – they weren't taking me there just to beat me to death. I fought against the tidal wave of panic that began flooding through me, fought the urge to struggle against him. Every instinct told me to but my judgement knew better; I had to let him get his guard down. He won't give me two opportunities to kill him.

"Go ahead you little cunt, _try and scream_," he growled into my ear, "Let's see how _powerful_ you are now, huh?"

The wind was knocked out of me as I was thrown to the filthy ground next to a dumpster and I couldn't stop the pained cry as my broken arm flopped over, the muscle tearing against the sharp bone. I shook as I tried to push myself up with my one good arm; though I tried to feign my injuries it didn't change the fact I'd just come out of a fucking car crash… I looked over to them – blocking the exit from the alleyway, high-powered rifles in their arms… I had no weapon on me…

That asshole was standing over me now, gun pointed at my head. He only held his rifle with one hand, calm, casual… unguarded. Perfect. I heard him chuckle darkly.

"Fuck… am I going to enjoy _this_…"

"Me too," I inaudibly murmured as he took a short step closer – I lurched forward, grappling at his rifle with my one good hand and yanking it down past me, the gun flashing hot on my skin and rattling as he let out some panicked shots. I drew my foot back and slammed my heel hard into his crotch and he cried out, dropping down over the top of me – the other lot were shouting and I could hear them close in but not willing to shoot through my human shield who I was grappling with, wrestling the rifle from his hands and allowing myself pained cries of exertion; tyring to mute them would be a waste of energy right now. I turned the rifle on him singlehandedly, rattling off a round into his belly before throwing him off me, desperately firing bullets at the guards who were closing, but the gun clicked empty in a matter of seconds and I realised with horror I'd only managed to take out two of those motherfuckers. Firing a rifle with one hand does not make for good aim, it seems…

A loud crack echoed in my skull as the butt of another rifle whipped across my face-

"GET HER!" their weight was on me then, crushing me, hands pinning my wrists down and a short, shocked scream leapt out of my chest when they yanked on my broken arm. Other hands were on my legs, one guy with his knee pressed into my gut and a hand on my throat. I struggled against them – I fought them with everything I had, but deep down I knew it wasn't enough. I felt sick with rage and pain and I could feel my body giving up on me –

Christ. Of all the ways my life could have ended… I should have had enough near-death experiences by now to be over them, but looking up at the masked faces above me I could almost say it didn't seem right. No life flashed before my eyes. There was no great epiphany. Just a small wave of disappointment… I saw the bloodied butt of the rifle slowly lift itself high above my head-

I closed my eyes bitterly. Bludgeoning. Quick, and if he hit the front of my head hard enough it was as good as a lobotomy, and I wouldn't feel a thing afterwards.

But the blow never came – my eyes snapped open as one of the men above me suddenly let out a blood-curdling scream and half the pressure from my body was released – I only had a moment to see him flailing backwards, grappling with another shadowy figure and the fight raced back into my blood when I realised this _wasn't over yet_. I lurched forward at the last few masako, some of whom were firing at the stranger and other two who were just startled; I rammed my fist into the throat of one, fingers grasping for his gun and pressing the muzzle down onto his chest, my whole body jolting as I pumped him full of lead. I turned my attention to the next but he was more concerned with the other guy – blinking through the darkness I could see the masako soldier in the stranger's hands drop to the ground in a crumpled, bleeding mess, the shadowed shape discharging another, twisting his neck so sharply I could have sworn his head would snap right off his body. Then the stranger was turning his attention to the last soldier, who levelled his gun at him –

There was a loud rattling as the guns exploded, the masako soldier hammering the stranger with only a few times before his own body jolted, slugged with bullets. My rifle smoked for half a second as his lead-ridden corpse dropped to the ground. Then only the echoes of the gunfire slowly murmuring back to us...

I let out a shuddering breath as my head began to swim; I could feel something cold and wet creeping onto my skin and when I looked down I could just make out the black pools of blood from the countless dead bodies around me, slowly growing and seeping into my space. My whole body ached, I felt sick with shock, and now that I was really starting to contemplate how close I'd come to being raped and beaten to death… it had been a long time since I'd had such a clear sense of my own mortality. My head felt heavy with what I was certain was yet another concussion (I could feel blood trickling from my ears) and darkness ate at the corner of my eyes – I fought it, as I heard the distant sound of sirens wailing. I tore my gaze up from the bloodied asphalt and to the stranger, a dark silhouette against the bright streetlamp behind. I was surprised – I thought I'd seen him get shot, but he was fine, walking around like nothing had happened… he quietly shuffled towards me. When I saw the purple in his torn and bloodied clothes, I felt my body wash with relief, relaxing, finally letting go; a Saint. _It'd be okay now_…

The ground rushed up to greet me as I slumped over, the cold asphalt soothing. Cold, clammy hands were around my shoulders as I slipped into blackness...

* * *

><p>My mind numbed the agony my body was in. From there, a slight weightlessness of being carried, I have no concept of how long… and soft, cold droplets of water as the skies, heavy with spring rain finally began to let go… then the weighty sensation of being carefully laid down, the prickly feeling of cold wet grass on my skin rousing me, and my body slowly eased itself out of shock. Eventually, after the timeless sensation of being only half-conscious, I opened my eyes.<p>

Huh. Trees.

I blinked up at the leafy foliage above me, mottled against the sky and a full moon hidden behind a dark cloud. The tree protected me a little from the rain, but now and then a fat drop of water plopped down onto my skin. I turned my gaze to my right, looking out over the grass; that person was still there, quite a few paces off in the shadow of another tall tree, his white torn singlet the only thing light enough to indicate him. He shuffled occasionally but was mostly still, as if waiting or watching for something. Watching out for cops maybe? Slowly, I sat up.

"Hey-" I called out to him with a voice hoarse from a throat that had been strangled. For a moment I thought the guy was going to run, he barley shifted his gaze over his shoulder then began quickly stumbling away, "Stop!" I called out, a little harder, and suddenly he halted, swaying gently from side to side. I was a little surprised; I'd half been expecting a chase, not that I'd be able to go after him in this condition. I shivered, using the tree to gradually pull myself up to my feet, legs shaking and sore and I realised with a pained yelp, my right foot or ankle might very well have been broken too. After a small moment to catch my breath, I slowly hobbled forward, trying to ignore my body that cried out in protest.

I heard him give a wet moan, and as I got closer, I could see he was covered in blood; his clothes were shredded and I balked for a moment…

It was a horrible feeling of déjà vu. The cold rain, the pain of injures from a crash… and the man with those wounds. I shuddered again and stopped walking as my eyes began to adjust more to the inky darkness of the night – he… he wore the _same_ clothes… the purple racing pants, white singlet…

It was a stupid, crazy thought I had for a moment… it couldn't have been. It was a trick of the light or more accurately, shadow. I could hardly see him under the mottled blackness of the tree-

I swallowed carefully before I spoke again, fighting for strength in my voice, "You – I know you've been helping us… you actually helped a friend of mine a few nights back, and... look I-"

I found myself unable to continue – the guy just stood there, head bowed a little and his back to me, swaying gently and occasionally making a low, quite noise. It was unnerving me, every hair on my body stood on end and I found myself inexplicably frustrated.

"Listen could you turn around?" I said, starting to feel exasperated but I was a little surprised when he almost instantly complied, turning and, I think lifting his gaze to me. I could feel my breath catching in my throat when I tried to see his face through the darkness as my mind tried again to play tricks –

But the moment he looked at me he gave a strangled groan and was suddenly shambling forward towards me, closing the gap so quickly I barely had time to stumble back, my foot slipping on a wet patch of clover. I didn't fall, but I faltered and my palm hit the mud as I tried to right myself – then the cold, the _icy _cold hands were on me, grabbing me tightly and suddenly forced me to the ground – they felt wet and weird, and when I looked to them the skin was broken – they roughly turned me and right away I was fighting, still furious and sick from the scene that had happened only moments ago, and horrified and confused that it could possibly be happening again. I was snarling and kicking and clawing at him with all my might and shouting every vicious threat; this guy wasn't big, but he was strong and had gripped me by the wrists and his head was buried in my neck, I could feel teeth tearing at my skin-

My furious shouts became a sudden scream as he bit down harder and I felt my skin breaking, and that horrible cold feeling of suddenly loosing blood pressure, and I knew he'd pierced my jugular vein. I snarled and fought with every broken inch of me, suddenly he'd released my wrists and I was thumping him with my only working arm and trying to hit every pressure point I could think of to weaken him and for half a second I thought I'd succeeded, because he'd eased off me a little and the teeth left my neck-

And he leaned back-

And I saw him.

Every drop of my blood… every inch of my skin turned to ice and it froze the blood-curdling scream that threatened to erupt from my throat and filled my head with chaotic silence.

That single, large doe eye, staring right back at me, here but not here, seeing me and looking through me… the bullet hole still somehow fresh in his head, so round and perfect I could make out the treetops through the window in the back of his skull. His face looking just as newly broken and my blood was dripping from his grated mouth.

The soft, strangled whisper crept out of me…

"… _Carlos?_"

A low, quiet groan responded. His cold weight pressed down on my body, and I realised over the smell of wet earth and blood, I was breathing in that hauntingly familiar, spicy scent… colder than I remembered, but it was still him.

My blood that was on his mouth seemed to sink back into his flesh and I felt my jaw drop as the mutilated wounds began to shrink on his face, the skin sealing a little, slowly piecing him back together before it stopped, his mutilations looking half-healed…

I was barely aware of him carefully pressing not his hand, but his wrist to the open sore in my neck and his other palm pressing an open wound to the impact cut on my cheek… my memory flashed eerily in my head – _sorry Boss, you had a uh, a cut. A bit of blood there_ – I could feel his icy blood creeping in tendrils into my flesh and making the wound numb and cold, creeping down into my veins and through my agonised body… slithering into my brain, making my vision blur…

I gasped, my eyes snapping open to dull blue sky carving cracks between the branches of the trees. Above my head I could feel the cool rays of spring morning sunlight glinting down on me and I suddenly sat up, trembling and cold from the still wet grass.

A dream? No way… it couldn't have been. It must have been. I blinked, starting to shake a little more as my hand raced to my neck, a weird patch of numb skin that was cold to touch. It was rippled and scarred and I felt a pool of bile race into my mouth at the memory, the sheer confusion and fright threatening to tear my mind apart. I suddenly lurched, spitting the mouthful of vomit out and coughing, another dry retch crawling up from my stomach and making my eyes water. Shaking, I spat again to try and clear the acid from my mouth.

_Carlos_… it was impossible, wasn't it?

Wasn't it?

With an unsteady breath I looked around the… _the fucking graveyard._ I was Mourning fucking Woods cemetery and I begged me not to ask myself why. I had to get out of there. I leant against the tree for support, fully expecting weakness and broken bones from the car crash and getting beaten and almost _eaten alive_ but…

Holy shit, I felt _strong!_ I was standing up on my own two feet, no sign of bruises or cuts on my limbs, no feeling of weakness in my body at all… I blinked in amazement, lifting my arm, the arm that I was… I was _certain _had been broken, but now felt just as tough and dexterous as ever. Unfortunately I couldn't be happy about this; it was as infuriating and confusing and terrifying as every other thing that had happened to me that night. I closed my eyes and forced myself to be rational… _get to a safe house. Shaundi's place is closest, a few blocks away at most. Go there, get sorted. You can work this all out then._

I snapped my eyes back open, and with determined strides started my short walk.

* * *

><p>She blinked and stared at me with wide, horrified eyes when I was done with my story. I didn't tell her that I thought it had actually <em>been<em> Carlos… I nearly did but… I couldn't. I couldn't believe it myself, it made no sense.

"Boss… shit, I thought that guy was on our side?" she murmured softly. She closed the gap and began re-inspecting the wound again for the hundredth time, but it was already sealed, _somehow_, and didn't actually need to be dressed. I thought maybe he'd burnt it closed, but if he had it should have been searing, not cold and numb. Seeing me still frowning, Shaundi quickly tacked on her reassurance, "But it's not crazy. That guy might be, but you're not."

I raised my tired eyes to her, reaching out blindly for the bottle and taking a deep swig.

"I guess," I murmured to myself, wanting to tell her, wanting to explain. I settled on my best compromise, "…He looked just like Carlos," I said softly, "And he had all those injuries… I guess I got confused."

I wasn't confused. I know what I saw. I just didn't want to believe it; there was no way to explain it. I felt Shaundi's lithe arm slip around my shoulders and tug me in tightly.

"Boss, you've had a _fucked up_ night. You're allowed to be a little scattered right now," she said quietly and I felt myself nodding. I heard her tapping her foot impatiently though –

"Doesn't explain the bite though."

I looked to her sharply, "What?"

Shaundi was frowning at the linoleum floor, "Well, if this only happened a few hours ago, that should be an open wound. Looks like it's been healed over for _months_. And you said you were in a car crash and there's not so much as a bump on you."

"What are you saying Shaundi?" I asked, a hint of a dangerous edge to my voice. I didn't want hoodoo and speculation. I wanted facts. Logic. Black and white, Newtonian reality.

"I'm not sure… medical mystery," she said, before snapping her eyes to mine, "Listen Boss, I think the best thing right now is for you to get some _sleep_."

She linked her arm through mine and I didn't resist when she started moving me away through the narrow hallway towards her room.

"You want me to call Johnny?" she asked as she moved to the bed and began fluffing out the blanket. I couldn't answer right away; I'd have to tell him everything and I couldn't be sure how he might react. The cold, numb patch of skin on my neck tingled and I raced my hand to it, feeling my core begin to shake.

"Yeah," I replied weakly, moving and sitting down on her bed as she slipped from the room. I liked Shaundi's bed; I'd only ever crashed on it once before but it was like sleeping in a pit of marshmallows it was so soft. I let my body flop down onto the blanket, staring up at her cracked ceiling before shuffling to a more comfortable position but grunted, feeling something lumpy under my back- half eaten Easter bunny… it only took an overly vivid imagination to ask what Shaundi and Reece were doing with a chocolate rabbit in bed and I tossed it across the other side of the room. Outside in the hall, I could hear Reece asking something lowly – he'd respectfully banished himself to the living room and stayed out of my way, but it didn't stop him being concerned; I heard him say something, maybe about staying, keeping watch. Shaundi replied just as quietly, and after a while I heard her making a call. I kept still, listening to her speak. Or more accurately, keep getting cut off mid sentence. Though I couldn't make the words, I could hear Gat's yelling back over the phone.

"Hey J- _hey, easy, easy_… yeah I… I'm _sorry_, my phone was off I… no no, look it's okay she's _here_… yeah, my house… no, she only just got here a few minutes ago, but listen… I-… Johnny I-… … _okay_ I'm _sorry_, it won't happen aga- … yeah. Look, she doesn't seem hurt but- yeah you need to come over… no she said she was but there's no cuts or bruises or anything… I dunno… okay, I'll see you s- … Johnny…? He hung up on me! Asshole…"

It was a few more minutes before she came back in and joined me, curling up on the other side of the bed.

"Phew," she said with a tired sigh, "He's on his way… and I think I'm in trouble…"

"Hmn?" I mumbled, glancing over my shoulder at her. Her almond eyes were sullen when she looked to me.

"Apparently everyone's been flying off the walls when you didn't get back to the hideout last night. I think Gat was about to rip the city apart, 'specially after they found your car."

I somehow managed to feel guilty about that, and frowned at Shaundi a little, "So why's he mad at you?"

She sighed uncomfortably, "I had my phone off last night, so did Reece. I mean, you know we didn't want to be disturbed but Johnny couldn't get on to me and now…"

"Just keep your head down and be quiet around him," I assured her gently, "If there's one thing you don't want it's Gat being pissed off at you, but he should find something else to be angry about soon enough."

She only nodded, but still looked worried. A small silence stretched, and as more sun filtered into the room I began to get drowsy. But as I did, more flashes and images of the night before rushed past my eyes like a movie. Looking on the memories… and looking at the reality now, I began to really worry for my sanity; I mean I got that someone who does the things I do might not be considered a totally stable person, but it's one thing to be a killer, another to start having full blown _zombie_ hallucinations.

I swallowed carefully then, wishing I hadn't thought that word…

"…You know," I started slowly, closing my eyes with a frown, "There were some bits there where I blacked out. So… so what I do remember _could_ just be a hallucination or dream. Like if I'd been drugged or hit my head really bad."

She was silent. I realised I was trying to convince myself, not her, but I couldn't stop.

"It wasn't Carlos," I murmured, putting a hand to my forehead and shivering, "It wasn't him. Carlos is dead."

Shaundi shuffled closer and snuggled into me. She felt hot and feverish, but a sudden thought crossed my mind that it was _my_ skin that was cold… I dunno. She still didn't say anything for a while, just lay quietly next to me and waited for me to fall back to sleep.

"… Boss?" she voice softly after a moment. I had only been feigning sleep in an attempt to achieve it.

"Mmm?" I returned.

"… I think we should go back to that Eye for an Eye place."

* * *

><p><strong>Sure, when <em>Jesus<em> comes back to life it's a miracle, but when _Carlos_ does it he's a _zombie_.**

**Always thought Shaundi might be the superstitious type. Anyway, I had been sitting on the fence with the Zombie Carlos thing for too long, thus I'm jumping on in with both feet.**

**That old woman at E4E had got some 'splaining to do!**


	47. U: FML

**This chapter was originally going to include the last mission with Tera but it just kept getting longer and longer and... it's weird to think this is how my chapters turn out when I look back to the early ones and they were only about four pages long, not _ten_. Thinking maybe I could go abck and re-write some of them, give them a bit more meat?**

* * *

><p><em>My feet flew me towards the truck, shoes slipping over the slick asphalt as the icy rain began to pour harder – blinking through the dim storm light, Carlos' body becoming clearer – I ran to him, skidding down to my knees by his side. The sight of him began burning into my mind. I bit my lip and carefully put my hands on him.<em>

_Carlos grunted and pushed himself up, perfectly unharmed if it wasn't for the fact he was missing an eye, blood running down his face._

"_Hey, hey it's okay," he said, reaching out and covering my shaking hands. I laughed with relief and he smiled back at me with a perfect, unbroken mouth, "I'm fine, see? Think I lost an eye, but I'm okay."_

_I shifted closer, letting my head drop onto his shoulder and his arms moved around my body._

"_I thought you were dead," I said with a rush of relief._

"_I am."_

_I blinked, pulling back to inspect him. No, no, he looked very much alive to me, "What? No you're not, you're fine."_

_Carlos chuckled and glanced behind him to the truck he'd been chained to, "Nena, you think anyone could have survived that?"_

"_But Carlos you're- mmrph!" I was cut off as he viciously kissed me, pinning me down onto the grass-_

"_I'm what?" he asked, breaking the kiss and tilting his head, his beautiful doe eye somehow predatory now- "What's wrong?"_

_I gasped when he started kissing at my neck, nipping and biting softly, "Carlos I can't," I said quickly, trying to push him back. What about Johnny? "Carlos let me go-"_

"_No."_

"_Carlos-"_

"_You're staying here," he said darkly, pinning me down by the wrists. I wanted to struggle, but my body wouldn't move. He leant in close, nuzzling into my ear, pressing his body onto mine wantonly, "Stay with me Nena."_

_I reluctantly turned my head- "Let me go!"_

"_It's okay babe," Carlos assured me, he arms wrapping around my body – I struggled but they only got tighter- "It's okay, wake up-"_

My eyes snapped open, suddenly taking in the familiar, dark tribal tattoo that snuck its way around Johnny's throat. His arms were tight around me, gently shaking me-

"You alright? Wake up, it's just a dream- shit, you're still cold…"

I felt a clammy sweat over my skin, and I gingerly pulled back from Johnny, who carefully pushed the hair out of my eyes. He was watching me worriedly-

"I'm alright," I lied, and totally unable to fool him.

"… It was a different one, wasn't it? A new one" he asked lowly and I blinked up at him.

"How did you-?"

"You talk a lot," he said. There was something restrained in his voice, and I got the feeling he heard me say something he didn't like. I couldn't respond, just shifted myself closer to him, holding onto the heat of his skin like it was my only anchor to reality. He was respectfully quiet for a while, but of course it couldn't last.

"You ever gonna tell me what happened that night?" he murmured lowly. _Sure Johnny. Nearly got raped in an alley but luckily I was saved by that cannibal serial killer, who as it turns out is Carlos come back from the dead, then he used his freaky undead blood to heal me though how that worked I have no clue. Fixed up a broken arm and everything. Either that or I'm bat-shit crazy. Better lock me up now._

"I did," I said steadily, pushing away the unreal memories and reminding myself of what must have actually happened, "Those Ultor jerks rammed me, I got a bit of a concussion, tried fighting them off and that freaky serial killer guy shows up and helps me out." I felt satisfied with that; it had been a day or two now and every time I told myself that particular truth I began to believe it more and more and forget about… everything else.

"Then drags you off to a cemetery and bites you," he tacked on darkly, fixing me with a long look, "You must've been hurt already if you let that happen."

"I told you, I don't remember much," I mumbled. He let it go, but I got the feeling I hadn't heard the last of it. After a moment his hand rubbed quickly over my arm, trying to warm me and he pulled the blanket up a little higher. Not that it would do anything; I'd been running the anti-fever since I woke up in that cemetery. I sighed and decided to check yet again, pressing two fingers up under my jaw where my pulse should have been, hoping that because of the dream it might have quickened again – but a dull lub-dub responded only once every two or three seconds. A resting heart rate that was half what a normal person's should have been, and though I made sure I stayed fit (my line of work, you had to be) but I was no conditioned athlete. Lazy heart, lazy thermoregulation…

"I think I'm sick…" I mused, shifting onto my back and staring up at the ceiling, "Weird kinda sick though."

Gat didn't respond right away, though when he did it wasn't anything I was happy to hear, "…Yo maybe you should talk to Tera about it?"

"What would she know?" I replied sharply, feeling a frown over my brow and Johnny's shoulder shrug under my head.

"Well, seein' as she's a microbiologist figured she might know something," he offered and I blinked, narrowing my eyes up at him.

"I'm not a microorganism Gat," I said lowly and I saw a flash of a dry smile on his face.

"You sure 'bout that shawty?" he teased and I propped myself up indignantly.

"_Fuck_ you," I said in a huff, "Five-five and a half is a _perfectly_ good height for a woman."

"Five-five _and a half?_"

"Five-six on a good day."

"Hey, I'm just sayin give the woman somethin' to do," Johnny said easily as I slouched back down onto his shoulder with a pout, "She's been getting antsy since Valderama didn't call and she went to chase up the story, turns out they need more evidence and they ain't gonna run it-"

"More evidence?" I mused dryly and rolled my eyes, "Oh _bullshit_. Hundred to one Ultor paid them off."

"True story."

I twisted my mouth thoughtfully – I didn't like the idea of that woman poking and prodding at me to figure out what the hell was wrong with my body; however I _could_ use the distraction of a small adventure, "… I'll talk to her," I decided, "See if we can get more so that Channel Six _can't_ ignore it."

* * *

><p>"<em>Hijack the chemical truck,<em> she says! _It'll be easy,_ she says!"

I shouted to myself over the sound of the roaring engine, whistling wind and rattling of my rifle,

"How you doing back there?" Tera shouted through the broken back window of the truck's cab.

"Fuckin PEACHY!" I roared back hatefully, unleashing more bullets into the windshield of yet another Ultor Five-O that was screaming along after us. Unwilling to accept that Channel Six wasn't going to run the mutant-dead-body story Tera decided that giving them more evidence would get the ball rolling. Thus, we were stealing a truck with a tray full of volatile chemicals that I'm guessing may or may not give me super powers if I got any of them on me. In the distance I could see a large black Ultor chopper starting to gain on us and I switched the mode on my rifle over, checking the grenade that was safely tucked in there then spared one look over my shoulder to try and see how far off we were from the airport. I let go of a breath; still a fair way off, but that gave us a good chance to loose these guys. I swerved my aim back around, glaring down the sights of my gun to the chopper that had closed in and was warming up its turrets.

_THOOMP_.

The grenade left a soft smoky trail as it sailed out and slammed into the attack chopper, detonating on impact so I had to duck behind one of the barrels as shrapnel began whistling past. I saw the huge wheel of a propeller continued spinning out over the city like a giant, deadly Frisbee. _That might cause some traffic issues…_

"Nice shot!" Tera shouted over her shoulder to me. Okay, okay, she really wasn't that bad. She was tough, not a bad shot and a pretty good driver, even in those heels. I found myself determined to try and not hate her. Try, probably not succeed.

As we crossed the bridge to the Airport I noticed the Five-O's dropping off and breathed a long sigh of relief, steadying myself as I teetered past the chemical barrels to the broken rear windshield, glancing inside to the cab.

"Hey, they're backing off, thing we lost-"

I was interrupted by an ear-shattering _bang_ and Tera swore as the truck suddenly jolted and fishtailed, nearly tipping right over. I clung desperately to the wooden side panels to stop from being thrown from the truck, and saw the bright-gold sparks churning out from one of our rear wheels, the tyre totally blown out.

The culprit: a new armoured truck that looked like the twisted offspring of a Hummer and an army tank, with a fucking turret mounted on the top of it. I felt my jaw drop and ducked behind another barrel of chemicals as the turrets whines as they warmed up and began firing on us again – Tera swerved the truck sharply to try and avoid as much gunfire as possible-

"The FUCK is that thing?" I shouted at her through the windshield and her sleek eyes flicked up to the rear view mirror.

"They sent the scout prototype?" she observed flatly, "Wow."

"_Scout prototype_ what the hell you talking about?" I snapped, quickly turning and firing at the truck, but I may as well have been using a slingshot.

"It's a pet project," Tera called back to me, "Ultor wanted an ATV to scout for mining positions."

Her coolness was beginning to shit me, especially considering my feet were now wading in spilt chemicals and I was dodging bullets and shrapnel from every direction, "Why does a mining vehicle need a goddamn turret?"

"Hey you gotta blast through rock, makes sense to me" she replied coolly and I blinked, frowning at her.

"What the hell are you people planning on mining?"

"Trust me, you wouldn't believe me if I told you," she said, swerving through the underpass around the airport then slamming on the gas – the truck screamed forward faster and I heard us crash through a chain link fence – the next time I looked up we were on the air strip.

"We're almost there-" Tera said quickly over her shoulder, "Just buy us a little more time!"

I ducked and covered my head, quickly loading a grenade back into the launcher of my rifle; just firing point blank at that thing wasn't going to take it out. I slithered onto my belly, trying to take aim as Tera swerved erratically. It was making it harder for the Scout to hit us but just as hard to aim properly, particularly for a shot this tricky- I narrowed my eyes, trying to judge the distance-

"Keep it steady Tera!" I shouted, though I don't think she heard me. Carefully I squeezed the trigger, but the moment I fired the truck jolted and I yelped, banging my elbow on the metal tray and splashing in the chemicals – the grenade I'd been so careful to aim thumped out of the gun and bounced off the front of the Scout, sailing off and away and detonating a little way off. I rolled behind a barrel again, swearing angrily and scrambling to re-load the rifle.

"I said keep it fuckin ste- OW! _ASSFUCK SHITSHIT FUCK!_"

Shot. _Again_. I tried to hold on to the side of the truck and scrunch my body behind cover, clamping a hand over my thigh, cringing as I inspected the through and through. God dammit. The pain at the moment wasn't bothering me too much but fuck if I wasn't getting over this shit. Fed up, I checked my gun one last time, rolling out from behind my cover, taking quick aim and firing; the grenade sailed in a short arc and bounced onto the road, I felt my fingers cross hopefully as the Scout drove right over the top of it-

I couldn't have timed that shot better.

The grenade exploded, lifting the Scout right off the ground and tearing it apart from its unarmoured underside, a wave of heat washing over us as a bright orange fireball spewed from within it and tore the precious prototype apart. I heard Tera cheer from inside the cab and she finally turned the truck onto our course, heading for the hangar where we'd be able to stash the chemicals. I breathed a sigh of relief, cringing again at my chemical soaked clothes and injured leg. I felt a little relieved at that point for my 'bradycardia' (thanks, Dr Google), because the bullet holes were barely bleeding. With a heavy sigh I crawled through the back window and into the cab, slumping into the passenger seat and pressing a hand over my leg.

"You got any bandaging or fabric or… anything?" I hissed at Tera who blinked to me worriedly,

"Oh jeez, um… yeah check the glove box… I think I got a jacket on the floor there," she said.

"Thanks-" I muttered as I fished about in the cab and tugging my soaked shirt off when I felt my skin beginning to itch from the chemicals. Tera suddenly shied away and actually swerved the truck, cringing at me when, I guess, I got a little too close to her.

"Whoah, hey don't touch me!" she said, grimacing, "I don't want any of those chemicals on me-"

I could only stare at her flatly after that as I pulled on the clean jacket; it was too fucking hard to force myself to like this woman. I glared down to my clothes and took out my trusty knife I'd had stuffed in my pocket, cutting away the fabric on one leg of my jeans from the knee down.

"What are you doing?" Tera asked cautiously when she eyed me cutting my clothes off my body. I shook the fabric out and began wrapping it around my injured thigh, gritting my teeth as I tied it down tightly.

"Dressing the giant gaping bullet hole I got in my leg from protecting _your_ ass," I snapped back at her far more sharply than I expected. She didn't reply, only glared ahead, a little chastised as we pulled into the hangar, parking the truck behind some large cargo crates.

We got out of the truck wordlessly; I leant against the cab, the pain in my leg beginning to intensify as the adrenaline wore off and Tera snuck her was out from behind the crates; I heard her hiss and I limped forward after her with a grumble, glancing around. Another guy was there, sneaking into view and waving at us awkwardly. He seemed inconspicuous enough; the cap on his head reading 'Channel Six' was the only professional thing about him, aside from that he had a worn batman T-shirt stretched across his torso and plain blue jeans. He wasn't exactly fat, but he was a solid sort of guy. He kind of reminded me of a geeky wombat, which made me smile cos I like wombats.

Wow. Had a little short-bus moment there.

"Hey, I uh, I'm Beckett," he said, edging closer and grabbing an eyeful of Tera. She didn't seem to care; any woman who dresses the way she does is probably used to it. Beckett cleared his throat and glanced around the crates to the truck, "This the stuff?"

"You know it," Tera said, hands on her hips, "Now you got the chemicals and the bodies, you think Jane will run it?"

Beckett smiled brightly at Jane's name, "She loves a good story, I don't think she'll be able to ignore it this time."

"Right," I said quickly, not wanting to draw out this meet and greet. It wouldn't be long till Ultor was back on our tails and I wanted to just jack a car and get back to the hideout as soon as possible. I started scrawling down the number for my field-cell; prepaid only, never plan. Makes it harder to track that way, "Look, here's one of my numbers," I said as I handed the piece of scrap paper to him, "Make sure you give it to her, tell her to keep in touch about this stuff," I finished and the guy blinked at me, shoving the card into his pocket.

"Sure thing, I'll make sure of it," he said with an earnest nod – I indicated to Tera and brushed past him, doing my best to ignore the now searing pain in my leg and trying not to limp.

* * *

><p>One thing about having Tera staying in the hideout was that pretty soon, every guy in the Saints found out about it and consequently, the place was a <em>little<em> busier than usual. And of course, put that many bangers in one place for an extended period of time, a party was bound to break out.

I was slumped on a sofa, my foot up on the coffee table and a glass of wine in my hand to help along the painkillers, silently watching the Saints around me - some dancing, all drinking. Strippers wrapped themselves around poles and hookers curled up on the laps of possible Johns and the whole time I was quietly wishing they would all get out of my house and leave me in peace for a while. One stripper swayed past me, smiling suggestively and weaving her body in a seductive dance, but I waved her off tiredly. Didn't seem to matter to some of these girls which was I swung, as soon as they realise _who_ I was, the ambitious ones would always take a shot. With a heavy sigh I took another sip of wine, closing my eyes. Maybe I could get a little hotel room or studio apartment and lock myself away in there for a while… no one bugging me, no zombies trying to eat me alive… I shook that thought suddenly from my head and corrected myself; that zombies weren't real and I was just going crazy.

"You need a holiday," a familiar voice suddenly purred from above me and I glanced up to see Johnny climb over the back of the sofa, dropping down next to me. I raised an eyebrow with a tired smile.

"What have I told you about reading my thoughts?" I asked dryly and he clinked his beer against my wine glass, leaning back and taking a swig.

"Nothing, from what I can remember. How's the leg?"

"Eh, I had worse. Actually," I said, lifting my shirt and revealing an angry red rash that was crawling over my skin from the chemical burn, "_This_ shit is more annoying," I said, scratching it with a grumble and I heard Johnny hiss and cringe. I pushed the fabric back down over my belly and drained the last of my wine.

"I swear, if I get mutations from that shit I'm gonna _stab_ Tera."

Gat chuckled, "What's your beef with her?"

I blinked, feeling tension running up my shoulders, "I don't have beef."

"If you say so."

We were silent for a while, and I felt him drop his arm over my shoulder, thumb brushing my skin soothingly. Everything was fine, till that stripper came back, still smiling sweetly at us as she picked up her dance again.

"Rough day?" she asked lyrically as she contorted her body, stepping up onto the coffee table in front of us and doing what she did best.

"You could say that," I said conversationally; I found it surprisingly easy to chat with 'working girls', even now when I wasn't personally running the brothels like I did back in the day. She took my response as invitation though, batting her lashes and weaving her hips at us a little more seductively, and I felt myself sigh. She didn't get the hint from last time?

"You know, you really do make a hot couple," she said with a cheeky smile and I had to blink, catching Johnny's glance. I won't lie, the possibility crossed my mind at that point, but only because I was wondering if Gat'd be into it. The stripper lowered herself down into a crouch onto the coffee table, leaning in to me- "That's a nice tattoo you've got there-"

She ran her fingers briefly over my shoulder and suddenly squeaked when Gat's hand snapped out and gripped her wrist, tugging her hand away. She blinked nervously, then cringed when his grip tightened threateningly.

"You know I think Pierce might appreciate a lap dance a little more. Mean time, you keep your hands off my woman," he said, his voice feigning coolness but I could feel the edge to it. The girl had gone quite pale and was leaning away, subtly trying to twist her arm free. Gat let her go abruptly and glared at her as she quickly got to her feet, not even saying anything as she rushed away, cradling her arm.

"… Your _woman_?" I said dryly, raising an eyebrow at him. I don't know if I was fine with him even thinking of me as property let alone referring to me as such… "Letting you know now, I'm not cool with that."

I heard him sigh, then mutter lowly, so lowly I think he didn't mean for me to hear him.

"Course you're not…"

"What?" I said swiftly. He didn't answer, just levelled a dark look at me that told me everything I needed to know. Still, I was in no mood-

"Don't be like that; you _know_ that was an overreaction," I chided calmly, "And don't try and justify breaking a girl's wrist. You and me, we're not-"

"Not what? Huh?" he interjected suddenly and I felt my words dry up in my throat. I wasn't sure how I even wanted to finish that sentence.

"We're just-"

"No. Bullshit," he said harshly and turned to face me properly, his sleek eyes drilling into me, "You know _I_ get a say in this too-"

"Can we not talk about this right now?" I said quickly. His mouth was a hard line across his face and he eventually slumped back down, looking back out to the party and brooding. Like a nervous tick, my fingers raked through my hair and I looked away from him; the air was too tense and heavy. "… I'm tired," I mumbled bluntly and I felt his gaze barely flicker onto me, "I'm goin' to bed."

He didn't say anything as I got up and I tried not to look over my shoulder as I headed for the stairs. I felt disgusting and a little anxious… god damn it. Why was this even happening? Gat and I hardly ever fought and now all we seemed to do was bicker and have awkward conversations… worst of all, I couldn't help but feel it was all my fault. It shouldn't be like this with him.

I rounded the top of the stairs just as the elevator down the other end of the hallway dinged open, and Shaundi stepped out, water soaking her shirt and dripping from her dreadlocks which she began to shake like a dog trying to dry off.

"Phew!" she announced with a bright smile when she saw me, "Looks like Titania and Oberon are fighting again."

I blinked and frowned at her, "What?"

"Spring storms." She said, indicating over her shoulder with her thumb – as if on cue a soft rumble of thunder echoed from the streets above.

"… Oh," I mumbled awkwardly and then shuffled off to my room, before a warm damp hand was on my arm.

"… Boss?" Shaundi said softly, worriedly, "You okay?"

I was going to shrug it off, but I was too far from fine to lie about it right now, "I don't think so." I mumbled and her pretty face pulled into a sympathetic frown.

"Hey, c'mon," she said, walking with me into my room and, true to form, the little angel pulled her pipe out of her pocket and sat up on my bed, crossing her legs. Before saying anything, she pulled a pouch of Loa Dust, taking a pinch and packing it into the pipe.

"Is this about… y'know?" she asked, tapping to her neck. I scratched at the mottled scar on my own throat absently and after a moment shook my head. Shaundi frowned gently.

"It's Gat, isn't it?" she finally said, fishing for a lighter in my bedside table. I didn't respond, I didn't have to. Instead I took my side of the bed, stretching out my legs and taking the pipe when she handed it to me. As I drew a grateful toke, she continued;

"Boss, if there's one thing I know it's guys. I've been in enough fucked up relationships I'm a walking encyclopaedia on them," she shuffled into position next to me and I handed her the pipe, feeling my muscles begin to melt, "C'mon. What's happening with you two?"

I leant my head back, watching the ceiling, "… I dunno," I said after a beat, "I think he's mad at me cos I don't want to talk about what happened that night… I mean, nothing happened, not really-" I said quickly and I felt Shaundi's surprise, but she didn't say anything. I ran my fingers through my hair again with a sigh, "That's the problem. It's… It shouldn't be this _hard_," I stressed, and Shaundi quickly pressed the pipe back into my hand. I put it to my lips and drew from it deeply, and colours began to brighten before my eyes, and my blood got a little heavier as my body relaxed. I began to continue, "And… the really ironic thing is, whenever I was this messed up about something… it'd be Aisha I'd talk to about it."

Shaundi took her turn of the pipe, speaking out through the smoke, "So what could've _possibly_ happened to mess things up?" she asked, seemingly as puzzled as I was, "You guys are best friends, the sex is fantastic-"

I jolted and sat up, feeling my cheeks flush a little, "I- wha- How do you kno-"

"Sweetie, the mayor of _Steelport_ knows. So c'mon. How do these fights and stuff start?" Shaundi said with a chuckle, taking another swift breath. We continued to pass the pipe back and forth-

"… Oh. Right," I said a little awkwardly, but the Loa melted that away quite quickly, "Well… see, there are times when we're just hanging out and he might hug me or something and… I kinda feel like I'm gonna have an anxiety attack." I said lowly. I'd felt backed into a corner – I couldn't figure out how to handle any of this, but Shaundi… I guess I'd just have to trust her and trust she'd know what to do.

"Okay then…" she mused thoughtfully, "And what do you do when that happens?"

I felt my shoulders shrug with a dry laugh, "Lately? I fuck him."

She snorted and raised an eyebrow at me, "Well that sounds like a perfectly healthy response."

"Hey, it works for me," I replied with a careless shrug, taking a breath of Loa Dust as if to prove my point.

"Clearly, which is why you're still having freak outs and fighting with him…" Shaundi purred and I flinched a little, "You ever have this problem with Carlos?"

I shook my head swiftly, a horrible chill racing up my spine when she mentioned him. I had to wait for the Loa dust to carry away the cruel sensation before I could continued, "No. I mean, we never really hooked up, and I was a bit uncertain about everything but Carlos was different anyway," I mused, the wonderful drug taking off the edge of pain that threatened to rear its head when I thought about Carlos. "He was safe," I said softly after a while, "Controllable."

"Interesting…" Shaundi murmured, her eyes narrowed at me in thought.

"What?"

"Controllable. It's pretty clear you have some vulnerability issues." She said sagely.

"No shit." I responded wryly, then leant my head back against the wall, a slight dry laugh pushing it's way out of my chest, "I'm starting to feel like I should be laying back on a leather couch."

Shaundi snapped her fingers and sat up a little straighter, eyes bright, "There's an idea," she said with a gasp, "Maybe you should try therapy."

"Fuck you I'm not going to no therapist!" I shot loudly, sitting up for a moment before easing back down, taking my turn with the pipe. Therapy? Two words outta my mouth and I'd be in a straight jacket faster than you could say _cuckoo_, "I got _you_ for that. Now shrink me."

"Uh, okay," she said with a soft grin, the Loa clearly starting to put her in a good mood. She took the pipe and puffed away at it thoughtfully like an old English professor, "What was your relationship with your father like?" she said, handing me the pipe and pretending to use her hand as a note pad, scribbling on it with an imaginary pen. I smiled and shook my head at her.

"How very textbook of you." I said flatly, then shrugged with a sigh, "Which one?" I asked, an eyebrow raised. She blinked at me.

"... Uhm… the most prominent one…?" she said, her former bravado vanishing.

"So what my biological one, the one I called Dad or my father figure?" I asked and she blinked.

"… All of them?"

I thought about it, I really did for a moment. And it wasn't the fondest collection of memories… I'd buried most of them, never tried to revisit them before. I didn't want to get into details though, "… Yeesh… not good," I decided after a while, "One was absent most of the time, another hated me and the latest turned me into a career criminal then tried to blow me up…"

An awkward silence fell, which Shaundi eventually broke with a nonchalant wave of the hand and her voice about two octaves too high, "You're right, you don't need a therapist. Phsh!"

I couldn't help but laugh, though I think the Loa Dust might have had something to do with that. Colours were _very_ bright now, radiant. Lovely. Shaundi continued to speak, her voice dry and amused;

"And you _wonder_ why you're so fucked up about men. Look, Boss you've been screwed over by every single guy you've had a meaningful relationship with for the whole of your life." She said, and my smile quickly faded. I looked to her worriedly and she continued, her hands weaving, "If they haven't betrayed you they've been killed, so you've learnt every time you're open emotionally to something it'll end quite shortly in being hurt. You've got a huge emotional investment in Gat now so it's not surprising you're scared."

She had me going up until then, "Fuck you Shaundi I'm not scared of anything," I snapped, and felt myself pout a little. She just shrugged, slumping down next to me.

"Fine, you don't wanna use that word, whatever," she said, "All I'm saying is, it's a learnt habit, get close to a man, get burned. You're just gonna have to make a choice cos I know you care too much about Gat to jerk him around."

I felt my insides twist at that. The thought that my own stupid head was doing this to me, to _us_, was infuriating. And the guilt was a bit much for me at that moment;

"… You know he referred to me as _his woman_." I deflected for a moment and Shaundi twisted, half amused, half horrified.

"Ew! That's so fifties!" she cringed with a giggle and I smiled in return.

"I know right?" I said smiling, though after a few moments of silence, it faded, "…So what should I do?"

Shaundi shrugged dismissively, "Eh. Follow your heart."

"Helpful."

She rolled her eyes at me, "Then go with your gut instinct."

That was no more helpful than before, "But I have _two_ instincts," I returned, frowning at my own mess. Nothing felt more right or natural than being with him, but on the other hand, it was another raw instinct to run for the hills whenever anything got too serious. Shaundi grunted at me-

"Then stop being a whiny bitch and pick one!" she shot so suddenly I sat up, staring at her incredulously. She shifted nervously under my gaze, "Sorry, sorry…"

But it had hit home more than I'd realised. Whiny bitch? Was that what I was sounding like? It only took a little reflection on how I'd been behaving lately and…

"Oh my god… I have been, haven't I?" I murmured. Shaundi quickly tried to placate me but I shook my head, "No, I mean, by my standards… shit I must sound like I'm on a soap opera."

Shaundi chuckled, resting her head against my arm, "Yeah, everyone knows your life's directed by Michael Bay, not Michael Stitch"

I sat up, suddenly invigorated. Or high. One or the other.

"You're right Shaundi," I declared, "Not about the Michael Bay thing, I always thought I was more Tarentino but – no, you're right."

I was up on my feet now and making a move towards the door, though I didn't actually have any idea what I was going to do. I could hear Shaundi call out at me to wait up as she slouched off the bed after me.

_You're going to start by telling him everything you told Shaundi about what happened that night_, I decided, halting at the top of the stairs to scan the foyer for him, _and everything you didn't_. I tried being still and determined but my body still swayed slightly, moved by the Loa and I glared through the bright colours till I saw him leaning against the bar-

I froze, hands gripping the balcony railing so tightly I thought the marble could crack. Tera leant against the bar too, her huge (FAKE) tits nearly popping out of her corset. She was smiling and flicked her hair, talking to Johnny who still seemed to be in a bad mood. I narrowed my eyes, watching them, and my hair began standing on end when I saw her reach over and put a hand on his shoulder, massaging the muscles there and a soft, sympathetic pout over her probably collagen lips. I saw him only crack his neck and not look at her, and she took a long drink from her glass, shifting closer to him. The hand that had been on his shoulder traced down his back and –

I honestly went blind with fury for a moment when I saw her slip her hand over the back of his jeans. My own palm hit my thigh before I realised my gun and holster weren't there.

"Oh no she _didn't!_" Shaundi gasped after appearing next to me, gripping my hand tightly to stop me from flying off the wall. I twisted out of her grip though-

"Shaundi get my sword-"

"Whoa Boss, take it easy-"

I whirled on her sharply, all those lovely colours from the Loa dust suddenly turning a murderous red till the whole hideout had been drowned in blood, "Get. My fucking. Sword."

Shaundi gripped me by the shoulders, her eyes wide with fright, "Boss look," she said lyrically as she indicated down to the foyer, "He's fucked her off already-"

Below, Johnny had already pushed Tera's hand off him, and was stalking away which placated me a little. She seemed to sulk a little but watched him go like a fat kid watches a buffet table. I could feel my body shaking and I knew the Loa Dust was turning on me – didn't often happen, but when it did, it was never pretty. With the last speck of rationality, I knew I had to get out of there before I did something drastic. I threw Shaundi's hands off me, whirling on my heel and making a beeline for the sub basements, not willing to wait for the elevator. Over my shoulder I could hear Shaundi calling out, warning about the rain, but I ignored it, just like I ignored the burning on my skin and the searing pain in my leg, which at this point I was starting to relish.

I just had to get out.

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><p><strong>Throwing it out there, I hate Michael Bay. But I like wombats. <em>Deerrrrrrp<em>. **


	48. Love Never Dies I

**Phew! This chapter was originally about twelve pages long, so I've decided instead to chop it up into two smaller chapters to keep pace make sure it doesn't drag too much. That also means that the next chappie should be up soon, hopefully within 24 hours or so, I just want to edit it a little more (only just finished now, you see).**

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><p>The rain thundered down over my shoulders as I smashed my fist into the pimps face over and over again, trying to work out the drug from my system – a few paces away under the shelter of a pagoda one of his ho's was sobbing, a hand over her blackened eye as one of her friends tended her.<p>

When I'd left the hideout I just sort of half jogged, half ran, using the pain in my leg to distract me. With the Loa turned bad I couldn't rest, I couldn't calm down, and all it took was seeing a pimp smack a backhand over one of his girls for me to finally loose it. I needed the excuse to hurt something, to let the monster out to feed so I could go back to the hideout and not cut that _fucking whore's_ head off.

I grunted as I stood back up, my leg aching – the pimp had stopped moving and I got the feeling I might have killed him. A shuddering voice called out through the rain-

"Hey, are you going to take us now?" one of the ho's called to me and I lifted my gaze to her. She was clearly the mother hen of her small brood, tall, cocoa skinned and a well tended fro, not to mention a healthy backside. She was watching me impatiently, one sassy hand on her hip and the other on the shoulder of the crying girl. Huh. Guess those girls were used to this sort of thing by now, but I hadn't actually thought about what I was going to do with them.

"Do whatever you want," I said flatly, really not giving a shit about them right now. She actually looked a little offended, glancing down to her friends and I rolled my eyes. They weren't my problem. I had enough problems without adopting random hookers. With that I turned and continued down the esplanade, even though she was shouting something obscene after me. My clothes were soaked by that point and I was starting to limp heavily, but I forced myself to relish every time I thudded down on my injured leg till the pain shot right through my thigh and into my hip.

A flash of lightning above was a precursor to a loud rumble of thunder that crashed through the city and I shivered, my skin tingling with the electricity in the air. That's the funny thing about Loa – you can suddenly feel so connected to everything around you, and the violence of the spring storm was no exception. Though I was trying to spend my energy and clear my head the night was only charging me more, and I began finding picking _one_ fight wasn't quite enough. I couldn't think, I could only feel, and _want_. Though I'd never been adverse to violence (clearly) I could never in my life remember craving it so badly without reason. Fortunately, pimps were like the Sand People, they'll always be back in greater numbers, so inevitably an angry shout chased me down through the rain and I grinned, cracking my knuckles expectantly and slowly turning to see the brightly coloured men starting to charge.

I can only remember the rest of that night like flashes of lightning that punctuated long lengths of blackness.

Throwing punches and kicks, breaking someone's nose on my knee. Ducking and dodging like a shadow, impossible to hit. Twisting someone's head and hearing their neck snap, being grabbed from behind and biting down hard onto their arm, so hard I felt skin and flesh breaking between my teeth and sweet coppery blood fill my mouth. Chasing after him as he ran, jumping on him, mauling like a rabid wolf as I scratched and bit and clawed at him… Then the moment the storm began to clear and the veil of Loa was lifted from my eyes, and I realised I was staring down at four dead, brightly dressed bodies. My mouth felt thickly coated with blood and I could feel chunks of skin and flesh under my nails.

There was a shocked yell behind me and I glanced over my shoulder to see a few scantily dressed women, hands over their mouths and gaping at me, a few others who were running away and I began to realised what a huge mistake I'd made - I'd gone insane, I'd gone absolutely _feral_. The pimps of the red light district had always had a tenuous relationship with the Saints at best; I allowed them to keep operating because they, like all the other 'independent businesses', paid their taxes to us. Would they see this as a declaration of war now? Fuck. I began jogging away again, trying to put as much distance between me and the bodies as possible- any misunderstandings those pimps would have could be smoothed over, I'm sure… say it was a personal thing maybe? _Double _fuck. How could I have been this careless? I guess I could add Dust to the list of drugs I'll never do again.

The come-down made me exhausted; I didn't want to go back to the hideout, not tonight, but I needed to find someplace safe to crash and it wasn't till I saw the curved roof of the Ultor Dome that I got the idea. It was only about a five minute walk to the old apartment block, the cramped parking lot still marked with tyre treads and bullet holes, a few broken windows taped or boarded up. Ah, memories… it was only the third time I'd been to Pierce's place; once a few weeks after the gang had been revived, then barely a week or two ago when Ultor had attacked us, though I hadn't actually gone inside that time. I could understand why he would have kept the place; it was quite inconspicuous and very central, but looking at the worn tiles of the hallway and taped windows I had to shake my head. The money was _really_ coming in for him now, I couldn't think why he'd still want to live in such a shithole…

"D five…" I mumbled to myself after climbing the stairs, eyes scanning the short hallway till I came across the door, the 'D' painted on next to a brass 5 and the edge of the door lined with about three locks.

"God dammit Pierce…" I grumbled, fishing in my pocket for a lock pick and got to work on the door. I should get keys to his and Shaundi's places cos this was fucking ridiculous, taking me nearly fifteen minutes to get into the damn apartment… finally that last deadbolt clicked and I gave a contented sigh, pushing the heavy door open and stepping inside and _hoh-lee crap_. Whatever I might have thought about Pierce living in a shithole, I was eating my words now.

The place was _pimped out_. It smelt of fresh paint, the furniture was designer and sleek, ultra modern. I had to wonder if he got Jean to do it, the same guy who took care of the hideout… against one wall was a sleek new entertainment system with huge speakers with a TV roughly the size of an IMAX theatre and in the corner was a small but well stocked bar, glossy wine and martini glasses hanging from racks.

Closing the door behind me I had to smile. _Of course_ Pierce wouldn't be living in a shithole – he loved the money that was coming with the power too much to not spend it and enjoy it. He just decided to hide his little penthouse paradise in a projects apartment block.

I didn't poke around too much, just got myself a drink of water and moseyed down the hall to where I guessed his bedroom was. And if I thought the living room was a bit much it was _nothing_ compared to his room. One wall was dominated by a huge canvas with some very modern art on it, the furniture was sleek and streamlined, and his bed was a king sized cushion of heaven. With a tired and contented sigh, I kicked off my shoes, yanked my jeans down off my hips and tugged back the cover, slipping between the Egyptian cotton sheets that felt like they had a thread count of sixteen million.

"You know how to live buddy," I yawned, riding the rest of my comedown into a long and dreamless sleep…

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><p>…A heavy weight thumped down next to me and I grunted a little, eyes opening a bit- the weight next to me suddenly jerked-<p>

"Wha'th'- _YAAAARGH!_"

The sudden hollering caused my half-conscious body to jolt awake and I panicked with a shout of surprise, scrambling from the bed and dropping down onto the floor, whirling around to peek back over the mattress-

"Whoa! Pierce it's me!" I yelped when I saw Pierce scrambling to his feet and grabbing a gun from the nightstand, quickly pointing it between my eyes. He was breathing heavily, clearly shocked and looked a little odd without his baseball cap and do-rag on, showing instead his crown of black woolly hair.

"_Boss_?" he asked incredulously and I gave him a sarcastic little wave, crawling back up into bed. He dropped his aim, the pistol thumping against his leg, "Jesus Christ woman you're gonna give a brother a heart attack!"

"You screaming like a girl at me wasn't exactly the most pleasant wake-up either," I shot back, still tired but no longer sleepy. I glanced around the room for a clock, "What's the time?"

"About six-" he said with a tired yawn.

"Six? What six am?" I asked and he nodded. I glared about the room, "It's still dark…"

"I got blackout curtains, they're really- wait wait- Boss what the _hell_ are you doin' here?" Pierce exclaimed, only just now putting the gun back in the nightstand.

"Well I _was_ sleeping," I said dryly but he only gave me a flat look so I elaborated, "I needed somewhere to crash, I was on foot and your place was closest."

He sighed, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck, "Motherfucker…"

"_Excuse me?_" I shot darkly and he held up his hands.

"No no, not you, just… I'm thinking I lost about five years of my life just now," he replied "You know, it wouldn't kill you to give me a heads up next time."

"Bitch bitch bitch…" I muttered, snuggling back down into the sheets. I was still tired, and this bed was too comfy to give up so easily. There was a lengthy silence before Pierce spoke again.

"… I'ma take this to mean I'm sleeping on the couch then?" he said dryly and I twisted to look over my shoulder at him. Sharing beds with friends was something I'd never taken issue with – hell, Shaundi _spoons_.

"You're probably one of those people who won't pee with the bathroom door open either huh?" I said with a wry smile and he grinned and shook his head, taking a pillow from the bed and heading for the door.

"Sleep tight Boss."

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><p>I didn't sleep as well the next time round; the next time I checked my phone (sporting a few texts, mostly from Shaundi asking where I was) it was a little after eleven, and with a yawn I stretched myself out, sitting up, feeling much more refreshed than I had in a long time. Then I frowned… I wasn't supposed to be feeling good or refreshed; I should probably be pretty sore and… I glanced down at my body curiously. No itching, no pain in my leg. Lifting my shirt first I inspected my skin but there was no rash, and as I gingerly prodded my leg I felt no pain or tenderness that should have come from that wound… in fact the skin under the dressing felt perfectly taut and normal.<p>

"The fuck…?" I mumbled, and began carefully undoing the dressing, but when the fabric finally fell away, I was swamped with confusion – there was no wound, just a fresh pink scar. I checked the back of my thigh for the exit wound, but still, _nothing_. I lifted my eyes to the huge painting on the wall but stared through it-

"The hell is happening to you?" I muttered to myself and instinctively pressed my fingers up to my throat, hunting out a pulse. Still slow, still sluggish.

"Okay!" I said lowly to myself, quickly standing up and making a move towards the small (and ultra modern) bathroom that hung off Pierce's bedroom, shutting the door tightly behind me and whirling around, pressing my hands onto the sink and staring into the mirror. I gave the woman looking back at me a hard stare.

"You can work this out," I said flatly, "… and stop talking to yourself you sound like a crazy person."

It was since that night, since I saw Car- since I saw that stranger. _Not Carlos, not Carlos_, I chanted those two words in my head like a mantra till I'd managed to convince myself again. I was injured that night… badly injured. Then that guy bit me, and pressed one of his open sores to mine… I could still remember the cold sensation of his blood starting to mingle in my veins. Then after that, my body heals up overnight, temperature drops, heart rate halves…

"So… this is clearly some sort of blood borne disease," I told the woman in the mirror who looked back with worry, almost convinced. But as far as diseases went it could have been worse, surely? I mean I'd hardly felt any detrimental side effects of what was happening to me… and there were weird medical whatsits happening all the time in the world! I saw a doco only a few months ago about a man who was half human half _tree_, so… so this really isn't that much of a big deal.

"I'm getting better at this," I said matter-of-factly to my reflection, "You know, rationalising shit. You got some blood there," I added, lifting a thumb to my lip and wiping away the caked blood in the corner of my mouth and froze when I realised what that had meant, remembering the sensation of biting someone, one of the pimps… his blood and broken flesh in my mouth, what if I had swallowed some? There was still dried skin was still under my fingernails and I began desperately scraping it away. Blood-borne disease… what if it something like mad-cow, but in people? That guy who I bit me was supposed to be a fucking cannibal so-

"Yo Boss!"

I glanced over my shoulder at the muffled voice from behind the door.

"Uh, yeah?" I called back.

"Makin' breakfast, you hungry?" Pierce asked and I shifted my weight, blanching at the idea of food.

"No… no I'm fine thanks," I said quickly, "Gonna grab a quick shower though."

"Aiight."

I quickly yanked off my clothes, feeling agitated, and slipped into the shower. Or I thought it was the shower. It was a little glass wet-room looking thing and there was a grating on the ceiling which I assume water came out of. It took me a full five minutes to figure out how to work the thing; I didn't even know there were such things _as_ digital showers but once I finally worked out the touch-pad thing it dumped a sudden wave of hot water on top of my head and I yelped, jumping out of the way.

"This is ridiculous," I grumbled, and after a cat-lick I managed to escape the space-age cleansing chamber, hitting the buttons a few more times; a light went blue and the water dumped cold, then some steam shot out of small jets on the side before I worked out what the 'off' button was. A quick towel off and pulling my grubby clothes back on, I stalked out to where Pierce was sitting up at his breakfast table, going through the paper and tucking into a healthy amount of rather yummy looking eggs and toast. No bacon. Neither of us had managed to eat pig since the packing plant.

"Where did you _get_ that shower, the Starship Enterprise?" I grumbled as I snatched a piece of toast from his plate and slumped down into a chair. He glared at me then pushed a mug of coffee my way.

"Thought you said you didn't want breakfast?" he said.

"You've got plenty there-" I said, pointedly taking another mouthful of toast and egg. Mmm, scrambled…

"I _made_ plenty cos I knew you was gonna do this," he said, waving a hand emphatically at me, "Say you're not hungry, then eat all my food anyway."

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out, checking the caller ID – no number.

"Yo no phones at the table-"

"Whatever man," I mumbled over a mouthful, straining to swallow before clicking the answer button, "What?"

"_Pardon me. I thought this was the number to the Leader of the Saints?"_

I felt myself straighten; there was no way in hell of mistaking that voice; "Valderama, pleased to hear from you. I take it you're calling to say you're finally going to run that story we've been throwing your way?"

"_Not exactly."_ She replied – Pierce had been waving at me when he heard me answer but I brushed him off-

"What? Jane, c'mon, it's a great story."

"_I want an interview."_ She said flatly.

"What?"

"_Corporate greed stories are a dime a dozen, I want something more. A whistleblower endangering their lives for justice, _that's_ how you get ratings."_

I sighed; Christ, this woman was hard to please. And this wasn't really a corporate greed story; it was more a corporate violation of human rights… "I dunno if she'll go for it," I said dryly. Her answer didn't help.

"_Then I'm not running your story."_

"… Fine. I'll go talk to her," I replied impatiently and I heard her make a satisfied noise, "I'll call you tomorrow with the details- don't call this number again."

The second I hung up, and Pierce jumped me with questions, "Yo, Valderama as in _Jane_ motherfuckin' Valderama?"

"Yep."

"What was it about?" he asked impatiently and I shrugged.

"She wants to do an interview with Tera-"

"You gonna _meet_ Jane Valderama?"

I gave him a long look; he had stars in his eyes at the thought, "… She's a local news reporter, not Oprah. It's no big thing."

"Yeah, yeah I know," Pierce said, leaning back in his chair, suddenly trying to look nonchalant, "It's just… you know this story is probably gonna be big and Ultor ain't gonna like it, I think I should probably go with you two to see Jane Valderama."

I tilted my head at him, "Why are you saying her name like that?"

"Like what?"

"… Never mind. _If_ we do the interview you can come as backup, but I don't know if Tera's really gonna be up for it."

"Course she'll be up for it," he said swiftly, "Who'd pass up and interview with Jane Valder-"

"Pierce Washington I'm serious, stop saying her name like that," I warned, snatching another half piece of toast. With a great deal of resignation, he pushed the plate halfway between us.

"… Okay The Boss."

I snorted, catching a piece of egg in my palm as it rolled off the bread, "You think my first name is 'The'?"

"I got nothing else to go on."

"True," I said, cramming the last of the bread into my mouth as Pierce watched, either disgusted or impressed. "Anyway," I said thickly as I chewed, "I got some shit to get done today… can I take your car?"

He cringed; we both knew it wasn't a question, "… You uh… you had some lessons in parking lately?" he asked and I rolled my eyes, finally swallowing the last of my food.

"Fuck you Pierce. If I dent your car you can take the Venom till it's fixed," I said and I saw him twist his lips shrewdly.

"Make it the Bezier."

"No."

"Venom it is then," he caved easily turning back to his paper and jutting his thumb over his shoulder to the front door, "Keys are in the bowl by the door, she's parked around the side lot. What you got on today anyway?"

I pushed myself up and sauntered to the small hall table, hunting through the bowl for his car keys.

I responded dryly; "Gotta see a man about a horse."

Gotta see a Voodoo Priestess about a zombie…

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><p><strong>Giving reviews is good karma people! And yeah, I'm aware I managed to fit two dorky sci-fi references into one chapter.<strong>


	49. Love Never Dies II

**Got some new stuff on Deviant Art, check me out, shadow000angel **

**Oh! And another thing!**

**I've been surprised at the amount of private messages I got from people concerning Zombie Carlos, so for everyone who still doesn't know, _you can get Zombie Carlos as a homie in SR2_. You can also get Zombie Lin in SR1, and in both instances you need to call Eye for an Eye. Google it.**

**And yeah, a lot of this is my trying to segue into SRTT seeing as by that point the Boss is nigh indestructible. That, and I just really wanted to include Zombie Carlos.**

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><p>Eye for an Eye was just as I remembered it; dusty, dank, and resonating a genuinely creepy vibe. I knew these people would only be giving me weird, superstitious and cryptic answers, but it'd be something, and maybe I'd get enough information to hunt my way to the truth of what was happening. The bell rang above my head as I pushed into the shop and I wove my way straight down the back, trying not to bump into the overstuffed shelves - but I didn't have to wait long this time before someone came to greet me. It wasn't the dumpy old woman I expected though.<p>

That girl, the one form the packing plant, quietly emerged from behind the curtain, blinking with some surprise when she saw me. We both stopped dead in our tracks when we saw each other; our last two meetings weren't exactly 'normal'. On the bright side, she seemed to be doing better; her eyes were sullen, but she seemed brighter and a little more together than last time. She'd lost the pigtails too, her hair instead clipped very short against her skull, and she'd dressed herself up with an assortment of beads, rings and talismans.

I raised a hand awkwardly at the girl. "Yo."

Even I found my colloquial greeting gauche. She twisted her fingers and fiddled with a particular talisman around her neck, Tiger's Eye, I think it was.

"Grandmother said you'd be back. I'd hoped it'd be before she…" she breathed in slowly and began smoothing out her long white cheesecloth dress and I felt a little wave of concern – before she what? I needed that old lady for answers.

"What, she's dead?" I asked flatly and the girl flinched, gently shaking her head.

"Not yet. She's not conscious, but she'll be gone soon," she said sadly, "… I take her position now."

I blinked at her; what, _she's_ going to be a voodoo priestess and run this tacky little shop? "How old are you?"

"Fifteen."

"Fuck me, that's a bit young for this shit isn't it?"

She huffed a little and pursed her lips, her former quiet serenity starting to evaporate and the tempestuousness of adolescence flashed briefly, "Do you have questions for me?"

"Yeah, and you know about what," I said sharply and her eyes were cast to the ground. It was roughly at that point I realised I was being a bit of a douchebag to the teen girl with the dying grandma. "Look huh… what's your name kid?"

"… Yveline," she said softly, stepping forward, taking my hand and shaking it. She frowned at my skin though, her gaze travelling up my arm to the scars on my neck and she tutted softly, leaning in to inspect it – I stood still, not inviting but not brushing her off either.

"Naughty boy," she said gently, her fingertips hovering about an inch away from my neck, not willing to touch the scars. Finally she leant back, giving me a weak smile, "I wouldn't let him do that again if I were you," she warned before turning and heading back down the shop, pushing a beaded curtain aside and made only a brief indication for me to follow. I stepped after her impatiently-

"I wasn't exactly _letting_ him do it the first time," I said, but a small surge of hope welled in my chest, "So… you know about that guy then?"

"Your friend, yes," she said awkwardly. It was interesting to watch; she was trying hard to appear sage and certain, but her adolescent awkwardness was slipping through the cracks, "Grandmother made me help with the ritual the first time, help her mix the potions and prepare the site… she had tried to master necromancy and thaumaturgy her whole life, your friend was her greatest success."

She had led me into that back room, the one I'd only caught glimpses of. It was smaller than I thought, the ceiling was low and it was quite dark, the only light coming from the lit candles on the altar which made the air hot and stuffy. It reeked of incense and burnt feathers and there were lots of drapes and one or two cane chairs, but aside from that, the large circular space before the altar was clear, leaving room for the cryptic markings on the floor. As I stepped further into the room my skin tingled unpleasantly; it was an unnerving sensation, ethereal…

I cleared my throat, shaken from my observations, "You keep saying _my friend-_"

"Yes. Carlos," she said flatly and a little anger raced up my spine at that.

"Carlos is dead."

She nodded and turned back to the altar, "That he is. But if you let him bite you like that again, you may very well join him. You're already half dead as it is."

"Listen whoever that guy is that bit me, it _wasn't Carlos_," I warned her decidedly, "That's impossible."

"… If you say so," she said, quietly stepping up to the altar and picking up a vial that had been resting there. She brought it over to me, holding it out for me to take; it was a glass and silver vial, and filled with something thick and dark.

"You should probably take this. I don't think I'll ever have use for it."

I didn't take it, "The hell is it?"

"… Yours. I took it from the altar at the packing plant after Mr. Sunshine-" her voice quickly faded and she chewed her lip. Shaking it off, she looked back up to me.

"He used it to make the doll he fought you with, and Grandma used it to bind you friend back to un-life, and to you. They both said it was very powerful-"

"Waitwaitwait!" I said, suddenly shocked when I caught a glint of red in the dark liquid, "Is this… _my blood?_"

She nodded, clearly not as creeped out as I was, "Mr. Sunshine said they took it from you when you had been captured."

"And it… you said it _bound-_"

"Bound your friend to you," she agreed, holding it out to me a little more pointedly but I still didn't take it, instead trying to make sense of her words, "It's your life force that regenerates the both of you – also why you're not so living as you were before he bit you and merged his blood with yours. I wish I could tell you more, but Grandmother… she never got a chance to explain the arts to me fully."

Necromancy. Thaumaturgy. Un-life, my life force… I shuddered as dark thoughts crossed my mind – what had they tried to do? What did they think they were doing? She kept saying it was Carlos-

"…Did you ever see it?" I asked darkly, my voice shaking as a new fury began bubbling up inside me-

"See… what?"

"His corpse _his fucking corpse!_" I nearly shouted at her. She shied from me then and looked about nervously.

"I… when we performed the ritual- someone left the crypt and Grandmother said it was h- but I-"

"You fucking what?" I snapped, grabbing her by the shoulders and giving her a sharp shake. Had they desecrated his grave to muck around with witchcraft? Is that what they'd done? "Who was it, just some random guy-?"

"I don't know!"

"_Why the fuck not?_"

"I fainted!" she finally yelped and started crying, every sign of her former wisdom and certainty evaporating till she was just a school girl in over her head, "I was scared, it was dark and there were all these noises and someone walked out of the crypt and then Grandmother collapsed and… and by the time I came to I was so worried for her!" she sobbed. It was only her frightened blubbing that managed to pull me back together. I snarled distractedly-

"… Give me my fucking blood!" I snapped, snatching the vial out of her hands and sticking it in my pocket. The heat and stench of sandalwood and coffee was pressing on me and I turned sharply on my heel, storming out of the room, half tangling myself in the beaded curtain and nearly throwing the front door off its hinges when I finally stumbled back into the streets, the fresh air clearing my mind and welcoming me back to reality. I leant forward, my hands on my knees and trying to think of what that girl had been saying. Something about that place… weird and crazy things seemed so much more possible in that place. I breathed out slowly, trying to clear the nausea from my throat.

"… I have to know for sure," I muttered to myself, starting to understand what I had to do that night.

* * *

><p>The graveyard was deserted; well, it was after ten, so of course it was deserted. I hugged my jacket around me a little tighter as I slipped over the clover, heading towards the grave, the new tombstone still glinting brightly in the moonlight. I slowed as I got to it; I hadn't been back here since the funeral, and now that it was just me, no other Saints here, none of Carlos' family surrounding me… I finally began to feel connected. I knelt quickly to the ground, eyes drinking in the tombstone, the epitaph- <em>Loving son, Loyal Brother, Dedicated Uncle; you are loved and missed<em>…

I reached out and touched the stone, for the first time really thinking about what he had been to _me_. I had never really had enough time to know for sure. Brave Soldier? Treasured Friend?

"Hope?" I mumbled lowly to myself… I felt tightness in my throat and allowed a shuddering breath, wishing for tears; I desperately wanted to cry for him, to be able to give him at least that much. But I'd tried for so many years not to, maybe I just couldn't anymore.

"… You were the best person I knew, y'know that?" I said softly, feeling a fresh pain when I realised it. Hadn't Johnny said the same thing about Eesh? What happened to them… there couldn't ever have been people less deserving. It made me feel toxic, like I was some sort of Bad Thing that happened to Good People.

"And you were the Good Thing that happened to a Bad Person," I said with a sad chuckle, thumb brushing over the marble again. I blinked when something scraped off on my fingers; I looked closer, feeling a flash of anger race through me. Paint, by the looks of it, leaving just the faintest stain of some weird little symbol on the marble. I looked to the grass then, reminding myself while I was there, and began gingerly spreading my hands over the ground. I pressed against it gently, reverently, all the while looking for signs of unearthing. But there was nothing; just fresh, taut turf… till my hand landed on something dry and a little squishy – some kind of white dough, or more accurately, cornmeal that had been half washed away with the recent rain. Staring at the gunk on my hands I gritted my teeth; then they had been there, vandalising his place with their stupid fucking rituals. I closed my eyes and sighed, rocking back onto my heels and looking sullenly to the tombstone again.

"Sorry," I said gently. For what in particular, I didn't know; there was too much to be sorry for. My phone began buzzing from my back pocket and I quickly checked it, hesitating before I answered.

"Hey," I greeted.

"_You ever gonna come home?"_ Johnny's voice answered and I shifted, pushing myself up to my feet and dusting my hands off on my jeans.

"Yeah, I am… It's just that-" but he cut me off.

"_Look, Shaundi talked to me the other night and-"_

"Okay, don't mention it…" I said with a dry, tired laugh, walking over to a tree and settling myself on one of the roots, "It's just a thousand and one things right now…"

"…_Where are you?"_ he asked. He didn't sound angry anymore, just a little tired.

"…Mourning Woods."

"_I can be there in five?"_

I didn't have to consider for too long before I replied. "Thanks." The line went dead, and i shifted to squeeze my phone back in my pocket, leaning my head back against the tree, lost in thought as I stared out over the dark necropolis. A short while later, and I heard the low footsteps behind me, rustling on the grass. I was still sitting in the shadow of the tree, watching the dissonantly peaceful graveyard.

Gat eventually spoke up when he found me, "This is a little morbid, even for you."

I glanced up at him tiredly, "… What did Shaundi say to you-?"

He shrugged, leaning against the tree, looking out to the field of tombstones, "That you were going to come and make things right, then you saw Tera grab my ass," he replied a little awkwardly and then looked down at me swiftly. The glasses shaded his eyes and I couldn't quite read them, "Nothin's goin on there, nothing will."

"I know…" I said and he nodded, looking away again. After a beat, I continued, "Johnny, I gotta tell you something and I really, really need you to not… react let alone say anything till I'm done, okay?"

"… Oh-_kay_…" he replied curiously, slipping down to the ground next to me and reclining a little against the tree's rough trunk.

"And the only reason I'm saying it to you is cos you're the only person I trust enough not to have me committed, okay?"

His shoulders shrugged with a slight chuckle, "Okay."

I unhooked the top button of my jeans, unzipping them and yanking them down over my hips – Gat nudged me.

"The fuck're you…" he started, but he was cut off when he saw my thigh, and the now clear space where bullet hole should have been. He put a hand on my leg and moved his glasses a little down his nose, staring incredulously at my skin, "What the _fuck_? What happened?"

"I'd say it healed," I said, awkwardly tugging my jeans back up onto my hips, twisting and buttoning up again, "But according to Yveline, my body 'is reverting back to its natural state'."

"This is insane," he muttered, brushing his hand over my leg again and gauging my reaction, but I could only shrug, "I dressed that fuckin bullet hole _myself_."

"See this is the thing… it's not just a low temp and slow heart," I said, beginning to feel nervy about what I was going to have to explain to him, "… The night I went to Rounds Square and got jumped by those Ultor guys… I didn't tell you the whole story. But that was mostly cos I didn't want to admit it to myself either, and I've honestly been trying to convince myself since then that none of this ever really happened and- _stop reacting_."

He held up his hands dismissively, went to say something then pulled himself back. He had a sort of soft smile on his face, a smile that was only a touch patronising and it made it all the more awkward when I decided to plough on with my story. And I told him, _everything_. To his credit, he didn't say a word, and I could sense his restraint as I got to the more incredible parts of the story, even when I struggled to tell him about waking up in the graveyard, being attacked, and seeing Carlos.

He stayed quiet for a few beats, even after I finished telling him about what I'd been told at Eye for an Eye that very day, and finally I managed to lift my gaze from the grass to him. He was steely, and watching me intently.

"… That was real mean of you makin' me promise not to say anything," he finally growled lowly and I felt my fingers entwine with his.

"Thanks for managing it."

"And all those Ultor fuckers are dead?" he said quickly, so suddenly and sharply – I was surprised _that_ was his first question and it made me smile a little.

"All in very gruesome ways, I promise."

He drew a deep breath and released it, looking out into the graveyard, eerie and blue in the bright moonlight, "So that's what you're doing out here, huh?"

"Yep," I replied flatly, bringing my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them to feel a little more secure, "Now I've been trying to rationalise everything away, I thought coming here and seeing his grave-"

"I get it," he said gently, and I glanced sidewards at him. He was frowning, and I could see his absently brushing his hand over his side, "You know, trauma and shit, does weird things to your memory."

I knew that look- didn't happen often but when it did it was unmistakeable. His eyes were distant and his jaw was set and he somehow managed to make the very air around him still.

"Like what?" I voiced softly. I saw his eyes lift and followed his gaze – the dark silhouette of Aisha's stone angel stood tall among the other low tombstones. It was a while before he spoke up.

"…The day that Eesh…" he started, and his voice was strained, struggling with whether or not to continue. I kept quiet, watching with some pain the quiet emotions that flickered behind his eyes. He swallowed carefully and continued.

"When I was in the back of that car, I thought she was sitting next to me," he said, so lowly I strained to hear him. "You were one side, shooting at the Ronin; she was sitting on the other. I remember trying to… Whenever the Ronin got close they'd try and grab her and I kept thinkin' I had to take care of her, but she was sittin' there, holding my hand and had her other hand here-" he said, his own palm over his side, covering where the large scar would have been on his abdomen. I didn't think he was going to continue after that; he'd looked away again, agitated.

"Then at one point, when we got to the hospital she just got up out of the car and walked away. And I asked her where she was goin' and she just gave me this sad smile and waved-"

After a moment he dropped his head and cringed, his whole body bound and tense and I quickly moved my arm over his shoulders, a soreness opening in my chest. I could remember that. I could remember him mumbling to Aisha, and as we got close to the hospital, him saying, 'Where y'goin Eesh?'

It hadn't occurred to me what he really might have been thinking or seeing at that point, or if he even remembered that car ride. It took him a moment to bind the pain up again, to put it away and I realised he was telling me about something he'd really tried to keep buried. There was very little that was superstitious or sentimental about Johnny; I could understand how he warred with this memory.

"And I know it wasn't real," he said, his voice stronger now as he looked up again, "But now and then, y'know… I tell myself it was her tryin' to say goodbye. Just got me thinking… that guy, whoever he was who rescued you and bit you… maybe there's a reason you thought you saw Carlos. The same reason I thought Eesh was sittin' next to me till I got to the hospital."

Finally he looked over and his eyes met mine – he leant forward, pulling my arm from his shoulders and linking it comfortably in his before leaning back against the tree. What he said next though, gave me a bit of a surprise.

"Cos he loved you. A lot."

I blinked at him, "I dunno abou-"

"Trust me," he interjected quickly and I felt him squeeze my hand, "And I was so fuckin angry at him for dyin' on you… maybe he was angry about it too."

I nodded, carefully weighing his words. I'd never been so grateful to him; I'd half been expecting him to call me crazy and tell me to get help, or to lecture me about how absurd everything I said was. But there was no judgement, not even a hint of it.

"…Maybe Aisha _was_ in that car with you," I offered quietly.

"Maybe," he consented, though without much conviction.

"… You ever really believe in that stuff?" I had to ask and he shrugged.

"I don't really know anymore." There was a lengthy pause, and he eventually nudged me, smiling to try and force away the heavy air around us, "So you're gonna keep waitin' here?"

I nodded decidedly; he was done being open for now and I was more than happy to help lift the mood, "Just in case. If there's gonna be a zombie apocalypse, I wanna be the first to know about it."

He nodded along with me, leaning back against the tree to be more comfortable, and I snuggled up against him.

No one showed that night; but by the time the sun came up, Gat was still waiting with me. Albeit asleep and drooling on my shoulder.

* * *

><p><strong>I haven't had so little action in a chapter in ages – <em>not a single gun went off ONCE!<em> Madness! Don't worry, that will be remedied in the next chapter.**

**Anyway, would love _all_ reviews!**


	50. U: And we're Live

**I just realised what this means. Next chapter... will be the _second last one_. Hard to believe, to be honest.**

**Oh, and before I forget... There is _totally_ a hidden sex dungeon in mourning woods. Hilarious easter egg in the game :)**

* * *

><p>"I don't like this," Tera said guardedly, folding her arms across her chest and worrying at her lower lip. I tried to stop my jaw from dropping a little-<p>

"It's _just_ an _interview_."

"It's live TV," she reiterated, "_Anything_ can happen."

I could feel a slight ache creeping over my brow – being around that woman tended to do that to me, "I got shot at getting this shit for you and now you tell me you're nervous about being _interviewed?_"

"It's stressful," she protested.

"No," I corrected sharply, my hands moving to my hips, "People trying to _kill_ you is stressful."

I think Tera was really starting to pick up on my distaste for her; her face scrunched into a scowl that was somehow still quite pretty, "Listen hardass, you have no idea how hard it is to be in front of the camera!" she said and I snorted.

"Did you see me on Fuzz?" I asked dryly – I think I was up to about three episodes of the _COPS_ rip-off, first time in a car chase, second time getting into a fistfight with a cop, and most recently _pretending_ to be a cop so Legal Lee could get some leverage on the SPD. Tera didn't seem to find it halfway impressive-

"Yeah, but you didn't care if you did a bad job," she said, her arms still folded in front of her, "All you had to do was kill a ninja with a chainsaw."

I shrugged, "True."

"Look, let's just get this over with, okay?" she finally caved, throwing her hands in the air and resignedly starting towards the stairs. I turned and walked alongside her and she continued, "Where is this interview anyway?"

"Mount Claphlan. They think it'd be poetic."

Tera snorted and was a little quiet as we climbed the stairs, then ventured after a moment, "Any of your lieutenants coming along?"

"Pierce," I said shortly and flatly.

She didn't even try to hide her disappointment making it pretty obvious who she'd actually been talking about, "Oh. Well, guess he'd have to do…"

_I'd kill you if I didn't need you_.

* * *

><p>The air in the car was tense and electric; Pierce was all excitement and nerves, Tera was obstinately trying to calm herself and I kept checking my rifle, running through everything in my head. There'd be a few crews up at the campsite, ready and waiting in case Ultor found out about this little meet-and-greet… I checked my watch impatiently; Tera was supposed to be on air at four thirty and it was already a little before four. Fuck.<p>

"You really love that gun don't you?" Pierce offered with a smile and I glanced at him, then down at myself. I'd been holding my SR-50 like a child might hold a comfort bear, and a wry smile tugged at my mouth.

"People who say they could never love anything more than their children have never owned one of _these_."

Pierce consented with a light chuckle but Tera was still quiet, muttering to herself. At first it had just been a soft _ohm_ or two, but now-

"In… Out…" she said, loudly sucking in and expelling air. I turned in my seat to glare at her; her eyes were closed and her fingers were making little 'okay' signs and resting on her knees.

"The hell are you doing?" I said and she barely opened one eye to glare at me, letting it slowly slip closed again.

"I'm relaxiiing…" she replied, slowly drawing in another breath and releasing it. I raised an eyebrow at her.

"You really _that_ afraid of looking like a fool on national television?" I asked sardonically and I saw her try to hold back a twitch.

"You're not helpiiing…"

"You'll be fine," I dismissed, turning back around in my seat, "Can't you just… imagine people in their underwear?" I added, glancing at her in the rear-view mirror.

"Uhuh," she said with a soft shake of her head, "That won't work. I got a 'thing' with nudity."

_Yeah, I bet you do_, "Then I guess you're fucked."

"Again, not helping."

I felt Pierce nudge me and give me a bit of a look. Right, right, she needed to be in good condition for this interview. Not that I could really give a shit – Pierce leapt in then with an obvious change of subject.

"So what did you get up to then? I got my car back in one piece so I gotta admit, I'm a little curious-"

I shrugged, "Zombie spotting with Gat in Mourning Woods."

I could feel their flat looks back at me, "Man, you guys have all the fun," Pierce said sarcastically, "Find anything?"

He didn't believe me, not that I cared; "No. The ground wasn't disturbed. Just like I thought."

We'd reached the shadow of the mountain and soon turned off onto the dirt track; mostly dirt bike jumpers and campers came up this way so the track wasn't too often used.

"Did you check the sex dungeon?" Pierce suddenly added.

"The _what?_"

"The sex dungeon," he said with a cheeky grin, as if he thought he'd stumbled onto something secret. My utterly bewildered look must've rectified his assumption though, because he continued, "It's a BDSM place under the graveyard; you go through one of the crypts to get there. It's pretty much just a big cave, but 'parently goths and grave robbers and stuff are always heading down there, getting freaky."

"I… that's…" I shook my head, wondering if he could be serious. I thought Saints and Sinners was a specialty place. Not enough, it'd seem, "_How _do you know this stuff?"

"Shaundi told me about it," he said dismissively. I felt my shoulders drop and I looked out the window- _of course_ she did.

"No, I did _not_ check the… _sex dungeon_. And I don't think I will."

"What, you're not even a little curious?" Tera piped up from the back

"Can we please focus on the task at hand? Take the turn up here,"

Peirce nodded and took a right up a short hill, which soon dipped down into a wider dirt area – the four run down cabins came into sight and I could see a few Saints already milling about. The Mount Claphlan campsite was, I _think_, going to be the start of an actual Summer Camp. Turns out parents don't like their kids going to Summer Camp in Stilwater, so after only managing to throw up four small cabins and half a bridge the place was deserted. Pierce pulled up into the shade of a tree and hopped out, checking his watch impatiently and looking out to the distance and Tera and I slipped out after him. I whirled on her-

"Stay here Tera, me n' Pierce are gonna make sure no one's coming," I said, waving her down as I started over towards the bridge, Pierce in toe.

"Some'o the boys said they left ammo up here for us," He called out ahead of me as we pushed our way through the scrub and up some boulders – soon the foliage gave way to a sudden gust of wind, and I found myself standing at the top of the mount, the view of Stilwater surprisingly spectacular from way up here. Not that I allowed myself any time to really take it in – I was already hunting under some camo mesh for arms; a few guns and pipe bombs were stashed at the cabins but up here was something much, _much_ more useful. My fingers hit the long, cold metal pipe and I smiled, hefting the RPG launcher up onto my shoulder, familiarising myself with the weight. I turned to smile at Pierce, who pulled back the cover over a large crate of ammo, cracking it open and picking up two rockets, chuckling to himself.

"Never forget the first time I saw you with one of these… scariest and funniest shit I ever seen," he chuckled, carrying a few of the rockets over and I met him halfway, loading a bomb into the launcher as he handed it to me. He continued, looking a little concerned, "Time's runnin' short - you really think Ultor's gonna jump us?"

"There's a good chance of it," I said, climbing back up onto the boulder and glared down hawk-like at the street below, "They're well aware we're trying to get the story out… don't worry. We can hit'em from here before they even get close."

Pierce nodded, leaning precariously out to scan the roads.

"Yo. Speak o' the devil," he said, indicating down below. A small convoy of Ultor Five-Os and two Bears were trundling along down another road, making their way to the south track up the mountain. There was no way Valderama was going to chance the interview till they were cleared, and I took point, putting my eye to the sights of the RPG, Pierce mimicking me. He began chuckling at something.

"Okay. On _Dah_." He said, and I couldn't hold back the grin as I focused my sights in front of my target.

"Fus… Roh… _DAH!_"

_**Sheeew-BOOM!**_

* * *

><p>Mere minutes later and Pierce and I swaggered back, fully satisfied with the level of flaming, smoking carnage left at the foot of the mountain. And with plenty of time to spare, I was fully confident the interview would go off without a hitch.<p>

Tera trotted quickly towards us, gripping her rifle tightly.

"We heard the- what happened? Did you-"

"No trouble," Pierce said, as we unceremoniously dropped out RPG launchers down on the haggard porches of a cabin. Tera smiled, and we were all feeling relieved. Pierce continued to brag, and I was feeling cocky enough I let him, "We saw some Bears heading this way, but me n' Boss there took'em out no proble-"

He was cut off by the thunderous roar of an engine from the north and we looked to the half complete bridge. We froze like deer in the headlights-

"Fatal last words there Pierce-"

A few Saints that had been in the area scrambled in a panic when they saw the Ultor Bears, thundering up the opposite track, speeding towards the half-done bridge-

_And jumping the fucking gap_.

It was an awe inspiring thing, seeing four tons of tank come sailing down and jolting suddenly in our midst, and there was more than one of them. The grey and orange armoured guards leapt from their Bears, and just like that, I swung my rifle around off my back and the skirmish started.

It was a flurry of bullets from there – the usual find cover, attack, pluck them off. I realised after a moment Tera was more than capable of handling herself _and_ the rifle in her arms. But just as we thought we were done, another Bear, then _another_ would jump the gap and come crashing down into the campsite.

But it was the third one… it didn't stop so easily. The mass of metal continued barrelling forward, charging at a small clan of Saints who were fighting back to back – only one of the crew saw it coming and had the good sense to shove his friends out of the way. But it didn't give him enough of a chance to escape- the tank slammed into him and skidded to a halt, and he went flying forwards with the impact, rolling along on the dirt and coming to a stop. I don't know why I did it-

I ducked low as I ran, _sprinted_ for the Bear, quickly skidding down next to the Saint and grabbing his shirt at the shoulders – I didn't have time to be gentle and ceremonious, and he cried out as I began dragging him. The guy was big and not too easy to move, though before I knew it another Saint, one of the ones he'd shoved out of the way, was next to me and hooking hands under the casualty's shoulders, helping me drag him to cover around the side of one of the cabins. We sat him up against the rotting wood and I could see a patch of blood spread over his purple shirt, a small lump jutting out suggesting one of his many broken ribs. I allowed myself one moment to slap a hand on the guy's shoulder as his friend got to tending him-

"Hang in there," I said automatically, then swung my rifle back around, jutting out slightly from the cover and letting my bullets do the talking.

The Masako were cocky; they were armoured enough to protect them from handguns, maybe even shotguns or low-impact shrapnel. They hadn't expected me to make sure my crew were ready for this, armed to the teeth with rifles, pipe-bombs and armour-piercing rounds. It took a while for them to even realise this and it wasn't till their bodies started piling up they began to get tactical and take cover. Once my gun rattled empty I quickly fell back to re-load; I hadn't been listening to the two Saints behind me, I'd hardly spared them a thought- but in that short moment one's frantic word's got my attention.

"Fuck! No c'mon, stay awake, keep your eyes open!" He was saying to his friend, whose face was now ashen. I couldn't move for that moment, watching the two. I was vaguely aware of seeing them around the hideout now and then, they were always together. One, the one who'd been shot, had ragged, sandy hair in lazy, thin dreadlocks and a roasted tan that suggested he spent far too much time in the sun – the other was a touch slighter than him, olive skinned and his hair clipped close to his skull. He had been holding a scrunched up bandana against the other's wound with one hand, gently shaking his shoulder with the other before moving it up to rest his palm against his friend's cheek. The wounded Saint managed a weak smile, lifted a shaking hand to cover the others and- I suddenly felt like I was intruding, or should be doing anything else than sitting there slowly reloading and gawking at the two. Hastily I got to my feet, skirting around the back of the cabin and hoping to get the drop on some of the Masako, meanwhile the Saint's prayerful words followed me…

"Damo, stay the fuck awake don't you _fucking die _on me now_-_"

For a few steps I felt like I was under water as I ran to take quick cover behind a tree, silently as I could. I quickly glanced around it; there was a huge Bear pulled up, and a team of about four masako had their backs to me, firing around their cover at my Saints.

It was like shooting fish in a barrel. I don't think any of them actually got the chance to turn around before I executed them, each one dropping before they knew what hit them. I felt like a vengeful guerrilla terrorist, springing from the scrub like that, and quickly scuttled forward to hunt out a new target. The Masako were outnumbered now but not retreating, not that the campsite really left them anywhere to retreat to… meaning they were expecting backup. I crouched in the shadow of one of the Bears, quickly surveying across the dirt clearing and seeing Peirce covered behind a barrel, Tera a little ways off lighting a pipe bomb. I half expected her to throw it at another Masako squad, but her aim was further – the half finished bridge. The bomb hit the lip, then began rolling down the woodwork – I only just managed to close my eyes and cover my ears as it detonated and turned what little part of the bridge there was into kindling.

_Of course_. That woman was smarter than she looked – the south track up the mountain was too narrow for Bears to get through, and now the gap was too far for them to breach. It bought us a little more time, at least before any attack choppers would show up.

The gunfire didn't really start again after that – I fired on one or two of the last Ultor invaders till I was certain they were done, then only an eerie silence followed, broken by the groans of the wounded. I stepped forward from cover, quickly surveying the scene. Pierce and Tera were fast to reach me-

"Everyone clears out of here, now," I said as soon as Pierce was in earshot. He looked like he was about to say something but I spoke right over him, "_Everyone_. We've got too many casualties to sit around up here waiting for the Ultor backup to arrive."

"Yo Boss we're gonna need backup-"

"_Bare minimum_," I consented as I started walking away. _Casualties_. For some reason, I had to check on him, 'Damo'. I threw a quick command over my shoulder, "Tera, get on to Valderama, check that we're still on-"

She didn't question me, and still somehow looked immaculate even after the battle, "Right."

As I quickly paced back around that cabin something cold crept up my spine and I knew Damo was dead. Rounding the corner and seeing his friend holding onto the lifeless body only confirmed it. The other Saint looked up to me – his eyes were shining with tears but he was refusing to let them fall, his face pulled into a hateful scowl.

"They finished?" he said, his voice strained. I looked from him to the corpse, nodding deftly.

"For now. But we gotta move."

The Saint looked back worriedly at the body in his arms and I quickly added, "It's okay. He'll come with us…" and taking a few steps towards them, "Here… let me help you."

The Saint didn't want to move for a moment, till I rested a hand on his shoulder, and moved another arm around the body, starting to lift. Finally he helped, standing with me and together we started moving the body away, shuffling quickly as we could to the Alaskan. Around us, Saints were licking their wounds and helping injured friends into cars, quickly clearing from the campsite. Tera was leaning up against the truck, talking quickly and lowly on the phone before she spotted me – after a moment she quickly yanked the backseat door open, I guess unaware that the Saint we were carrying was already gone.

"Jane says we gotta meet her down the side of the mountain, it's too d-"

"That's great, tell Pierce," I dismissed flatly, a little occupied at that moment. It was awkward and unceremonious getting Damo's body into the back seat; he was a well-built guy and took up a lot of space, meaning I'd be riding in the tray. No matter. Easier to aim a gun when you're riding in the tray. The other Saint seemed to realise this too and was clambering into the back, but Pierce stopped me just as I was about to follow-

"Yo, Boss… the _fuck?_" he muttered, nodding discreetly to the back seat of the truck, "You know he's already d-"

"They need to stay together," I told him just as lowly, "We'll drop them at the hospital on the way to the hideout."

"I…" Pierce sighed with resignation, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, and conceded; "You the Boss."

He took the drivers seat. Tera was already impatiently riding shotgun, and I was the last to clamber up into the tray as the engine roared into life and started trundling away from the battlefield. The Saint was silent, shocked, staring through the grated metal floor of the tray. I shifted uneasily.

"What's your name?"

He blinked up at me at that, obediently responding, "Curly. Well, Mohammad… friends call me Curly."

I tilted my head, "…Curly?"

"Use'tah be Moe, but Damo said I looked more like Curly, y'know the Stooges?" he said, stifling and agonised laugh at the memory, "It kinda stuck."

For a moment I wondered who in Iggy and the Stooges was called Curly before the penny dropped, "Oh… I might stick with Mo?"

"… Right now I'd prefer it," he consented, his mouth contorting with a grimace. A short silence fell, and I tried to let myself be distracted by the nice view. I was never very good with this sort of stuff… emotional support, I think they call it. I was thankful when Mo managed to break the silence with something I was much more familiar with.

"…I'm gonna kill every last fucking one of them," he suddenly snarled through gritted teeth. My thumb brushed over the warm steel of my rifle and I could only nod.

"I know the feeling," I lowly muttered, "… You uh… cared about him a lot, huh?"

The hint of a sardonic smile flashed over Mo's face and he looked up at me, "_Cared?_ Yeah. You could say that."

"Did he know?" _why did I ask that?_

Mo just nodded, smiling at some private memory I wasn't welcome to know- "Guess I should be thankful for that much, huh?" he said, before the pain flashed across his face again. I just kinda looked forward after that and sat in silence across from him. He still sniffed occasionally, but now just seemed to be buckling down, not really caring about the jolting and rocking of the Alaskan over uneven ground. He did, however, watch the body in the backseat through the rear window.

The ground sloped down and we started the steep descent – I stood in the tray then, leaning against the back of the cab for support and could spy the news van parked on a slope and I could only just spy two figures behind the tinted glass. Pierce eventually pulled up across from them, and I hopped down out of the tray, cautiously starting my approach to the van as Tera and Pierce clambered out from the front of the truck.

The doors of the van were pushed open, from the driver's side the cameraman I recognised as Beckett quickly leapt out and didn't even throw us a greeting as he scrambled to the back of the van. From the passenger's, none other than Jane Valderama herself slipped out, balancing on her heels as if she'd been born in them, her soft teal suit as good as sewn onto her. Beside me I could hear Pierce rubbing his hands together and I rolled my eyes at him.

"Keep it in your pants fanboy," I muttered, but he either didn't or wouldn't hear me.

"Whoah, _Jane Valderama_," he said, stepping forward as she approached us and reached out a hand, shaking hers warmly, "I watch you every night-"

"From the tree outside your window…" I muttered and he threw me a hurt look-

"Yo shutup!" he snapped before turning back to Jane, who was calmly bemused, "She uh, she's jokin, y'know, your show and all," Pierce gushed a little. I felt my eyes roll again; if he hadn't seen me be such a dork when I met Muse I would have needled him a little more.

Jane just smiled pleasantly, "Always a pleasure to meet a fan," she said, finally managing to free her hand from Pierce's, before turning her attention to her real target, "And you must be Tera?"

"Yes," Tera said robotically and I could see she was somehow still wrestling with her nerves, "Thankyou again for meeting us here, I know what a risk you're taking,"

"Jane! Three minutes!" Beckett suddenly called out as he levelled his camera's tripod and double checked the light.

"Oh jeez," Tera suddenly mumbled, turning to face me and fanning herself.

"Just relax, you'll be fine," I said dismissively as Jane moved her into position hooked a mic onto her. I glanced between the two, "Okay, well," I said quickly, not really in the mood to be around them anymore, "You guys got this under wraps, so.. yeah. Enjoy the show Pierce."

Again, I doubted he really heard me. I guess stars were in his ears as well as eyes.

There was a little more fussing about and I just went back to the truck, my mood sunk. Mo hadn't moved, just watched me with tired red eyes, and I clambered back up into the tray next to him.

"You're not gonna watch them?"

"Eh. I get to close to that camera they could turn it on me…" I said flatly, "Being the death-defying YouTube hit is bad enough."

He nodded and looked to the metal of the tray, and I was happy then to wait for the interview to be over. I glanced over my shoulder to see Tera and Jane precariously on the precipice of the cliff, I guess for the striking view behind them. Beckett soon took his position, listening in on his headset and held up five fingers-

"And in five, four, three…"

He silently ticked the last two numbers down and signalled to Jane, who looked perfectly serene and professional as she started – from this distance I could barely make out her words,

"This is Jane Valderama, here with Tera, a woman who claims our city is in danger..."

"I uh, didn't really get to thank you before."

My attention snapped back to Mo – he wasn't looking at me, but his head nodded slightly.

"…For what?"

"Trying to save him."

I guess I should have felt gratified. I could see how what I did could be seen as heroic or something but… I didn't feel heroic. I didn't try and rescue him because I had a burning desire for him to live. It was just… the thing to do. I didn't want Mo thanking me, because it only reminded me I should be feeling worse about Damo's death. But I didn't. I guess when you're around death and tragedy as much as I am the loss of a stranger, even one that is technically your own, becomes almost meaningless. I was sorry for him, I was sorry it happened. But I don't know what would be worse; to be as sad for Damo and his boyfriend as I should be, or knowing just how hollow I'd become.

But I was a leader. Maybe the hollowness, in it's own way, gave me more strength to lead.

"It's what any Saint would have done," I said flatly, and he quickly nodded. Over my shoulder I could hear Jane starting at Tera again-

"I'm assuming you have proof?"

"Oh absolutely," Tera said earnestly and as I looked over my shoulder at her I had to wonder if she'd been rehearsing in the car on the drive over, "I have the bodies of some of the people who were experimented on, as well as the chemicals used to do it."

"And why do you think Ultor is responsible?" Jane asked. I looked away disinterested, half listening to the conversation in the background.

"But also, you know," Mo tried again, "for taking us with you,"

I blinked up at him, tiredly, sadly.

"Please don't," I finally said. Mo went to protest, but stopped himself just as our attention snapped back to the interview when Tera suddenly blurted out-

"_Excuse me?_" she yelped, bewildered and quickly starting to panic. I frowned, just as confused before Jane started attacking her-

"You admit that _you_ conducted the experiments?" Jane reiterated and Tera stammered.

"Well, yeah bu-"

"So you admit that you perverted science to serve your own twisted desires?"

"No!" Tera yelped, now frantic. I felt my shoulders drop; looks like Ultor had already gotten to her. I'd hate to have to throw Jane off this mountain to make a point (that and I get the feeling Pierce would never speak to me again if I did). Before me, Tera was still desperately trying to salvage the interview, "_Ultor_ was the one that-"

"It's an all too familiar tale," Jane cut off, settling into her sign-off position, "A beautiful woman takes a job at a multibillion dollar global corporation to fulfil her dreams of microbiology only to find herself disgusted at her failure to ascend the corporate ladder and turns to mad science in order to blackmail her employer. I'm Jane Valderama, Channel six news."

Beckett made a cut signal and was instantly packing up his equipment at a desperate pace. I clambered out of the tray of the truck, stalking up to them.

"Why did you do that?" Tera snapped at Jane, suddenly a lot more certain now she was off camera, "I thought you were going to _help_ us?"

"Journalistic integrity doesn't pay the rent, Tera," Jane replied, though there was something behind her eyes when she said it that was a little akin to regret.

"You just humiliated me in public!" Tera shouted furiously, her hands balled into fists.

"I just made the Saints a _lot_ of money," Jane shot back just as swiftly, if not as loudly. I blinked at that; smart woman. She knew we'd want her life for this and had worked something else out… Jane had turned to face Tera full on now and spoke sternly, "Listen, Ultor was going to bury this story anyway. At least this way we got _something_ out of it. Ultor isn't going away, you'll have plenty of time to plot your little revenge scheme."

With that, she turned and started back for the van, pulling off her microphone with a sigh. Behind her, Tera was still seething, and I saw her mutter something, to Jane or herself, I can't be sure. I'd been so busy in watching them, in fact, I hardly noticed Beckett come racing quickly up to me, hand shaking with a cheque in hand.

"Here – please, we don't want any trouble," he said quickly and I snatched the slip from his hand. The second I did he turned and practically ran back to the van, clambering into the driver's seat. I stared down at the cheque – waiting to have a name filled in to make the deposit, a hundred grand. I raised my eyebrows at the amount.

"…What… _the fuck_?" Pierce suddenly shouted as the van kicked up dust and drove off. I'd only then become aware he'd been standing there the whole time in stunned silence. I glanced from him to Tera who furiously ripped off her mic and threw it over the cliff, then was wringing her hands and pacing back to me. I felt strangely calm about the whole situation… Or maybe I just wasn't that surprised things had turned out this way. Or maybe having a dead body in the backseat of the truck put the unimportance of an interview into perspective for me. Either way, not the ideal outcome, but at least we weren't walking away empty handed.

"_Now_ what are we gonna do?" Pierce spat, searching me for answers. I blinked back at the both of them, a soothing wave of pragmatism washing over me.

"We take Mo and Damo to the hospital. We go home. And we work out what the real plan is to fuck Ultor sideways."

* * *

><p>It was a Friday night so naturally Purgatory was swarming with people. A lot of Saints who'd been training hard in fighting had started a little 'fight club' of their own which was drawing in a lot of gamblers, but not even that could interest Pierce. He sat at the bar, a bottle of beer in one hand and a shot glass in the other, and was staring into the liquor looking utterly heartbroken. Even from the tray of the Alaskan I'd heard him ranting to Tera the whole way from the hospital to home about how he'd grown up watching 'Valderama' (he'd dropped the 'Jane') on TV and I got the feeling the reporter might have been his first celebrity crush – the April O'Neil to his Mikey. Now the disillusionment had really kicked him in the gut and he was bitterly drinking away to try and lift his mood.<p>

I spotted Johnny and Shaundi early on – they were talking animatedly to Reece and Tasha over by the doorway to The Range. Reece had his arm around Shaundi for the most part, but each of the foursome occasionally made little shadowboxing moves or were laughing and I didn't doubt they were exchanging tips on fight styles or reliving a bout. Gat caught my eye only briefly and he smiled a small greeting that I returned – though my short conversation with Mo filtered lyrically back through my mind…

I'd gone straight to the bar to get myself a drink and go join them, but Tera was persistent in trailing me and I realised I'd have to get some business out of the way first.

Tera was as sullen as I'd ever seen her. I thought sharing a car with a cadaver might have done it; she hadn't said anything at all on the way back and now she was standing next to me against the bar having followed me through Purgatory, swilling her way through a bottle of chardonnay with a vodka kicker. I settled on merlot naturally.

"Can you believe her?" Tera suddenly grumbled at me, thumping the bottle down on the bar top. I fought to contain a sardonic sigh, wondering how, after the day we had she could still be so fixated on getting trashed on TV. I really didn't want to engage in a bitchfest with Tera and I got the feeling that if I'd try and wander off she'd just follow me around anyway.

"Well, you know what, Jane's right," I resigned. I didn't like it, but it was true. Tera clearly didn't see it that way.

"_What?_"

"Ultor has a stranglehold on the media, if they couldn't stop the story they'd sue the ass off Channel Six, destroy their credibility then save their own company's image," I shrugged, about to take a sip of wine before I stitched on, "Beckett gave us a pretty big payout from them; we can use that to fund a _real_ attack-"

"It's _my name_ that got blasted out there!" she said sharply, thumping the bottle down hard again. I stood still and kept calm which only seemed to make her even more furious, "How can you be thinking about the money now?"

"Honestly Tera I really couldn't give a shit about your name," I said with a sigh and took a pointed sip of wine. From the Barossa Valley, an Australian wine… better known for Shiraz but it was a pretty good year. Tera went to say something but I cut her off, "Being the enemy of my enemy _doesn't_ necessarily make you my friend."

"What the…?" Tera muttered, "I thought you wanted to take Ultor down?"

"Uh, yeah I do," I said, a little more sharply, "This way didn't work out, so we make the best of the situation."

"The best of- I can't believe you're selling the fuck out," Tera said, turning away from me and staring down at the bar, shaking her head. I blinked at her, a hot wave of anger racing up my spine.

"_Selling out?_ You wanna watch what you say-"

"Fine," she said, tossing her hands up a little, "You go have fun with your little payout from the company you're _trying to destroy_."

I snorted, then downed the last spill of wine in my glass, and leaving it on the bar as I went to leave, "Look you're welcome to stick around and help us hurt Ultor," I said, trying to be pragmatic, "But if all you're gonna do is sit there an be a whiny bitch, you can get the fuck out,"

"… Fine," she said coolly, and I noticed her glance away from me and fix on Gat, who was still chatting with Tasha. I snarled at Tera and turned to walk over to him, but she kept talking.

"I'm sure your _second in command_ and I would have _much_ more fun _working_ _together_."

… Right then.

"Tera…?" I threw over my shoulder, feeling like my skin was the only thing binding my anger together. She raised a sleek eyebrow at me then sneered, snapping the last of my restraint.

I whirled around and was on her in the blink of an eye, grabbed the bitch by the hair then slammed her _skank-fuck_ face down onto the bar- she gave a frightened shriek and went to scratch at me but with my free hand I grabbed her wrist, twisting her arm sharply up behind her back till she cried out and stopped struggling-  
>"<em>Touch<em> my man again, and I'll _RIP THE SILICONE OUT OF YOUR TITS!_" I roared at her, my face so close to hers I could hear her frightened breaths. She tried to speak but her cheeks were too squashed against the bar top, so instead she stared up at me with her only visible eye, terrified and pleading. I growled, shoving her away and she toppled to the floor, stunned.

After my brief loss of control I felt a little chastised, particularly when I noticed the roomful of gaping Saints whose attention I'd caught. Well, so what? They know full well no one fucks with me. Straightening myself out and smoothing over my hair I glanced down at Tera haughtily who was trying to glare at me, but scared as she was it wasn't working too well. Familiar, uneven footsteps padded softly behind me, followed by the equally familiar voice.

"… I'm sorry, _your man_?"

I glanced up at Gat who was watching me with an amused smile, though I refused to look sheepish for my double standard. Instead, I grabbed him by the shirt collar and yanked him down, crushing my lips onto his possessively. There was no room for nervousness anymore – my obstinacy had finally been able to smother it. After a stunned second I felt him grin into my mouth, and he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me in so tightly I felt like we were going to melt together.

I broke the kiss breathlessly, my heart hammering with sudden heat.

"Damn fuckin' straight," I finally replied.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Never<em> before has a character popped into my head so fully formed as Damien 'Damo' Wright was. I'm utterly furious at this, particularly since he decided to only show up in the chapter where I needed him killed off. I seriously could barely concentrate on the rest of the chapter because his stupid back story was filling my head like flood waters.**

**And I couldn't even find a decent place to give him a line. Fuck.**

**I've got half a mind to give him a one shot, just to get him out of the way. Or maybe just use his character as a lead in an original fiction. Either way, the jerk's sunk his way into my cranium now and I can only wish he showed up a few chapters earlier so I could give him a little more consequence.**

**I'm ranting. Sorry.**


	51. Young Life, Unlife I & II

**I know I said two more chapters left, but yeah. I lied. I'd originally wanted to leave Carlos unresolved (kind of like writing, 'The End?' to not conclude a story). After a while though, I changed my mind. I saw the scene and it stretched out into a rather short standalone story. Also why this chapter is a little on the late side; I was almost finished with the next chapter (yay taking out Vogel!) when I thought... Nah. Fuckit. Put this one up first.**

**It's also split into two parts but I'm not cracking it over two chapters. I guess I felt part one and two had rather different atmospheres.**

**Quick thanks again to JoeEngland, MDGeistMD, arbitrarygirl, Shadow Knight and anyone else I might have forgotten; I'll be doing proper thankyous soon, either next chapter or before the BIG fianale!**

* * *

><p><strong>Part I: Young Life<strong>

"_Stilwater's answer to Hanibal Lecter, has struck again. The victim this time? An Ultor security guard, Simon Michaels, who like previous victims was found covered in bite marks and part of his internal organs missing."_

I frowned at the radio and twisted the dial, cranking the volume up a little.

"_Concerned with the fruitless attempts at capturing this menace, I spoke with Chief of police, Troy Bradshaw."_

There was a rough change in pitch and clarity that told me they'd flipped to a pre-recording.

"_Chances are he's just another nut job eating bath salts like Miami-"_

"_Then what do you say to the speculation that the offender is working with the Third Street Saints?"_

"_That it's _speculation_. This man is clearly unstable and you have my assurance that everything is being done to capture him."_

The Radio DJ seemed to be over the news report at that point and interrupted the interview abruptly with a laugh and his sliding, rapid voice.

"_Sounds like the Police Force is getting stretched a little thin nowadays no surprises there this being Stilwater and all. This next song goes out to the crazy motherfucker that is the Leader of the Third Street Saints; Ultor should have never picked a fight with you baby, but you can take me on any time."_

I snorted and couldn't help but smile as the synthetic percussion kicked in, and the dorky tune began fading in softly over the top of it. I found my fingers were unable to help but drum gently on the steering wheel, and my voice unable to help but hum along as the words began to trickle through the speakers.

"_We're talking away,  
>I don't know what,<br>I'm to say I'll say it anyway…"  
><em>"Today's another da-ay tuh nmph mm… _shyin away_… I'll be cmbh-nmh- dadam n'kay… taaaake, ohhhhn meeeeeee... _take-on-me-_"

I love when I can get Pirate Radio. They're the only station that seems to like the Saints and they'll play just about anything, though A-Ha was a bit of a surprise. More so because of whom it was dedicated to.

"Taaake meee ohhhn… _I'll beee gohhhn, inadayor, TWOOOOOOOO!_"

And _ah_, singing in the car… what? Like you've never done it before. My fingers drummed over the steering wheel with more enthusiasm and I hummed the old eighties tune, taking me back to… something or other. Maybe some good eighties film I'd seen once, I dunno. I was cruising back through Shivington after having checked on the Uni safe house; locked down, stocked, troops geared up and ready… I was feeling confident. Confident, till I drove past a rather unpleasant sight-

I slowed the car and tilted my sunglasses down to get a clearer look; it was a small group standing out the front of a few of the terrace houses that lined the streets. _Had_ lined the streets… demolishing was well underway by this point.

"Oh shit…" I mumbled. I could see an old Hispanic woman leaning up against one of her sons, crying as she watched the building, their home, be torn down. I had to wonder if they had anywhere to go… like a flash of lightning, Carlos' words, distant and buried in my mind crept back to the surface; _Ultor began buying up the property, forced us all out. We didn't really have anywhere to go; I was livin' with my mom in this tiny apartment with two other families for six months_.

I halted the car, pulling up to a sudden stop on the curb and knocking into a post box when I did. I threw the car door open, hand resting on the gun strapped to my leg, not that I knew what I was going to do. My previous feeling of confidence was already evaporating when I really began to realise what was happening. It was already starting. We hadn't moved fast enough; _I_ hadn't moved fast enough to take care of these people. Even with the board of directors cut down, even with their projects being sabotaged left right and centre Ultor were still ploughing on. I could almost admire their tenacity if I didn't hate them so much. I reached the construction site eventually, looking up with the vagabonds at the monstrous machines slowly eating their way through the derelict buildings; there was still a bit of furniture inside some of the places, unsurprising. These people wouldn't have found a place to stay soon enough, let alone a place to store their shit.

I looked to them; a trio of girls, staring at the building stonily, judging from their looks and skimpy clothes they were working girls. The young man and his mother who had stopped sobbing and now only had silent tears rolling down her cheeks. An old black man with a greying beard, sitting on a very old trunk, the only bit of luggage or belongings he appeared to have with him. I guess anyone else who was supposed to have lived in some of those buildings had already left.

The girls looked to me eventually – two looked away, disinterested, but one seemed to recognise me, nudging her two friends. I turned quickly on my heel, shoving my hands into my pockets and walking back to the car. I wasn't in the mood to be noticed anymore.

But that thought made me stop, my key stuck in the car door but unturned; _not_ be noticed? I'd learnt, from the very beginning that's the best way to do most things in my line of work. Don't get noticed, don't draw attention, even if you have a message to send _don't_ draw attention to the individual, only the gang.

That worked when you were fighting gangs. But Ultor wasn't a gang; it was an entity of its own. I tried sending a message on that boat a few nights ago, and yeah, they were probably scared but there was nothing about it in the media. We tried getting Valderama to do that story but Ultor had them in their pocket before Tera even went on air.

I finally twisted the key, unlocking the car and slipping into the driver's seat, pulling out my phone as I did. When we sabotage their shit, they can cover it up. If I killed Vogel quietly, they'd cover it up. The rest of the city wouldn't know or care or think that the Saints were any real force when compared to Ultor.

That had to change.

I hit speed dial three, and waited the two short rings.

"_Boss?"_

"Pierce, I need to know when Ultor's next press conference is gonna be. The bigger the better, but it has to be soon," I said, revving the engine and letting the plan percolate in my head.

"_Uh, sure. You plannin' something big?"_

I felt my lips tug into a smile.

"… You could say that."

* * *

><p>"Wednesday," Pierce said, dropping a notice onto my desk in front of me. I picked it up and glanced over it, a tip from a local paper. Whatever it was must be a big announcement, Ultor was giving it two days to muster a decent sized crowd. I took a swig of my beer, nibbling the glass rim thoughtfully.<p>

"Yo you gonna break your teeth doing that."

"Don't tell your mother how to fuck," I shot at him. But I did put the bottle down and took to chewing my bottom lip instead. He drew up a chair, flipping it around and straddling it, looking at me flatly.

"So, what's the plan?" he asked, and I leant back into my chair. I lifted my gaze up to meet his, lacing my fingers together;

"Public execution."

"… _What?_" He said, sitting up straighter and scanning me as if to check I was being serious, "Boss, that's… I mean I get why but fuck, that's some risky shit."

"Think I don't realise that?" I asked quietly, "These guys are gonna keep coming, using their 'space age shit' to try and kill every last one of us. We have to send a message, let them know that anyone who hurts my people is picking a fight, and whoever picks a fight with the Saints _won't win_."

He nodded solemnly, then voiced the one thing I knew only _he_ would.

"What if they do win?" he asked lowly, mimicking me by lacing his fingers together thoughtfully, "This is gonna be on their turf. It's gonna be guarded."

"I can do this Pierce," I said flatly, "Not alone, I get that. But we're gonna need a good fuckin' plan," I slid the memo back over to him, "I'm gonna need details. Pull every favour you have. I'll be busy tonight, got some stuff to patch in Shivington so I'm counting on you here."

The way to Pierce's heart, I found, was through his ego. I'd barely said anything but already his chin was lifted and he was perfectly determined.

"Don't you worry Boss. I _got_ this."

* * *

><p>Okay, I got this. A little stealthy sabotage should be enough to tide us over till we managed to take Vogel out. Maybe save a few buildings while we're at it. The first lot of houses along a street had been torn apart but construction fences had gone up further down the line, spreading like an infectious disease down the street. One side of the block was commercial and abandoned this time of night - every other side had, by the sounds of it, all previous tenants evicted. I was blissfully alone for nearly two blocks in every direction.<p>

Now, the trick here was not just to take the backhoes and bulldozers apart, but to actually booby-trap them. Make this shit dangerous enough and Ultor wouldn't have a choice but to stall, at least for a few days, at least to get us to Wednesday. It'd be hard to motivate workers when their cranes kept exploding on them.

Lin was the one who taught me how to rig cars back in the day. Her being undercover like she was, we never really got to spend proper time together, but she'd managed to find one afternoon to show me the ropes. How to use different parts of the car's engines as detonators – the Nos switches, the ignition. The info she'd passed on had been invaluable. I was lying on my back under the controls of one of the backhoes that had been left there overnight, holding a torch in my mouth while I worked, then started securing the explosives. All they had to do was start the engine and that would work as the detonator, and _kaboom_. Ultor would deem the project too dangerous to continue for the moment and if they didn't, there were always a few trigger-bombs hidden in the rubble waiting to be shifted enough to explode. It wouldn't take much. Just trying to shift the rubble into the back of a dump truck should do the trick.

Man, I should set up cameras somewhere.

The little device gave me a happy few beeps to let me know it was working, and I slipped out from under the machine, sliding down a broken sheet of concrete to the ground below. I went to check the time on my phone before remembering I left it on my bedside table to charge. Stupid touch phones, needed charging _all the time_. And would break if you looked at them wrong. I missed my old nokia.

Dropping my now empty old satchel and the torch into an on-site dumpster, I started scaling the chain link fence but froze just before I threw my leg over the top of it. A noise had caught my attention - a creepy little noise.

A giggle. I whirled my attention around to where I thought it had come from and started hearing more hushed laughter and loud scramblings from across the lot and soon a few small dark figures appeared, running along the fence and scrambling through a small hole in it and into the construction site. Very small figures… _oh shit_. They weren't close enough for me to make out what they were saying, but the height of the voices told me they were kids. I dropped back down into the site, crouching lowly by the dumpster and watching them carefully. A small orange light flicked on – one of them had a lighter. Then the others, about five of them made their own little flames and they spread out, taking the lighters to the Ultor banners along one of the fences, which began to quickly burn, the flames spreading and consuming the insignia. The little devil children started squealing and dancing.

"Yeah! Fuck Ultor!" a little girl yelled out and started running around excitedly. I tilted my head and smiled. Naw…

But the fire was making them over-excited. They started running for the rubble piles – one had a pipe in his hand and clambered up, swinging it into the windshield of a dump truck and shattering the glass. My heart began pounding and I stood up from where I'd been crouching, starting to jog over. I saw one of the kids get something out of their bag, a bottle, and lit a bit of fabric that was stuffed in the top of it. Ten year olds playing with Molotov cocktails… only in Stilwater. A serious fucking problem when they're also mucking about in an explosive-laden construction site at two am.

"Hey! Get outta here!" I shouted at them in my scariest responsible-adult voice. Two of them ran off screaming as soon as they heard me but the last three began cussing at me loudly. The one on the dump truck threw his pipe in my direction (though it missed by a few yards), and the boy with the Molotov quickly threw it before turning to run into the half-ruin of the house. My heart dropped when I saw it sail over to the back hoe, exploding in a brilliant orange fireball on the cab. Shit! _Shit!_

The little girl had clambered up high on a pack of rubble and was still squealing and dancing like a little gremlin, her daft friend was still jumping up and down on top of the dump truck that was parked way too close to the rigged machine. I tried desperately to calculate how much time it would take before the fire ignited the explosives-

And I was running. _Towards_ the fucking truck.

"Kid! Get outta here!" I shouted furiously. He turned and stuck a finger up at me.

"Fuck you cunt!" he shouted then started howling like Max from _Where the Wild Things Are_. I couldn't help but blink. Kids these days, honestly.

"You dumb fuck there's a goddamn b-"

Out of time. The plastics threaded in the engine of the backhoe finally caught and the machine blew, the shockwave slamming into my body and knocking me to the side. Smaller parts of shrapnel shredded at my clothes and when I finally landed something hot and heavy slammed into me again, pressing down hard onto my leg. My head swirled and there was a loud screaming in my ears again, and white dots blinked in front of my eyes.

"… Hate getting blown up…" I allowed myself to mumble, and grunted as I looked down at my legs, pinned down under a hunk of yellow metal. In the distance I could hear the little girl screaming. Only the girl. And already the fire was starting to spread, in true Shivington fashion.

"God dammit…" I grumbled, sitting up and groaning as I tried to hoist the huge plate off my body. The explosion had weakened me somewhat and my arms shook as I slipped my legs out from under it. I stumbled up, breathing heavily and cursing the fact I'd didn't have my phone. _I need help_. _I need help!_

I scrambled over the rubble quickly as I could and trying to outrun the possibility of another bomb going off. That little girl was still screaming, I could just make out the sound over the ringing in my ears. She was hiding in part of the house, maybe with that other kid who threw the Molotov. Then another sound, a low groan that gurgled into a strangled cry.

That kid! That stupid kid was alive! I stumbled blindly after the noise, up and down over the mounds of rubble till I finally saw him. Or tripped over him was a little more accurate.

He was blackened with burns and half-covered in rubble, his body was covered in cuts and a trial of blood was pouring from his nose and the corner of his mouth. The small child sobbed and groaned and started howling hysterically when I began ripping the debris off of him.

"Hold on you little prick," I grumbled, picking him up and stumbling back over the rubble. _Five minutes for locals to arrive, seven for emergency crew_. If another of those bombs was going to go off it would be before anyone would get here to help me. The little boy in my arms was wailing and sobbing weakly as I made it to the fence, setting him up against the chain link and checking him over briefly. He didn't seem to be bleeding from anywhere major but he was heading fast into shock. I yanked my jacket down off my shoulders and wrapped it around him, snapping my fingers in front of his face.

"Stay awake kid. I gotta go get your friends."

A soft wail replied to me, and I turned, running back to the building. _Save the kids,_ I nearly shouted the command aloud. I know, of all the lives I'd taken… but this wasn't supposed to happen. These were kids. _Shivington_ kids at that. They were already victims and I didn't want them added to my list. I pushed through a bit of half-collapsed drywall to get into the ruin, following the soft wails. The girl who had been screaming had stopped and I felt my blood run dry when I thought about what it probably meant. But that third kid was whimpering nearby. I hunted blindly through the rubble, heart thumping in my chest. It was a weird sensation by the way – the pace doesn't quicken. The pulse just intensifies, like a heavy thud in my ribs every two or three seconds.

I found the kid crouched behind a part of a counter that might have been the kitchen once. Wordlessly I grabbed him by the shirt and hoisted him up, dragging him out after me as I felt the heat of the fire getting closer. He picked himself up and jogged on, gripping my wrist tightly as I pulled him out of the house and to the fence, giving the kid a quick check-over. He wasn't even hurt. I know it was a good thing but it annoyed me for some reason. He was grubby and scrawny and the ash on his face had lines carved into it from where tears and snot had been rolling down his skin. Finally he gasped, looking up to me with wide, glistening and grateful eyes. Soon his jaw dropped when realisation dawned on his face.

"I know you!" he breathed, amazed, "I saw you on YouTube, you're so coo-"

I grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt and twisted him around, whipping my pistol from its holster and whacking it repeatedly over his backside.

"Stupid! Little! Fuck!" I snapped, punctuating every word with another whack. I pushed him away and he scrambled for the hole he and his friends had made in the fence then began running down the street, and I was hollering after him.

"Stay the fuck outta here or I'll kill you my fucking self!"

Yeah, I don't really like kids. Particularly when the snot nosed little brats go ahead and _fuckup_ my plans. I breathed heavily, putting my hands to my knees. I turned my gaze across the lot to where that kid had been – the first car had pulled up and someone was trying to break through the fence to get to him, they were that desperate it looked like they hadn't noticed me, the shadowy figure on the other side of the lot. Good. Two safe, at least.

A high pitched squeal broke the night air, so sharp it could only be a little girl's. I turned quickly, seeing her being dragged out of the ruins a little way down and struggling out of the grip of a guy, who I suddenly recognised.

White singlet. Purple race pants. _Covered _in blood…

The girl finally wrestled free of him and ran screaming off into the night, squealing something that sounded a lot like 'Monster'. I watched her go, then looked back to the… to… _shit._ I didn't even know what to call him anymore. He was shying away from the flames of the building and machines now, but I wasn't about to let him escape, not a second time. I began jogging across the rough dirt, stumbling over clods and stones, but he was retreating fast as the fire grew, racing further along the site past demolished house after demolished house, seeking the shelter of more rubble.

"Hey!" I called out, picking up my speed and awkwardly trying to sprint over the uneven ground with my sore bruised leg. But he kept moving till finally I breathlessly shouted out at him.

"Carlos _stop_!"

* * *

><p><strong>Part II - Unlife<strong>

He froze. And the moment I called out to him and said his name the realisation, the _belief_ came crashing into my head with unnatural clarity. Everything else washed away, the noise of sirens and fire behind me, the soreness in my leg or heat on my skin from being so close to the explosion. I finally believed it. Believed the insane, stupid idea. I knew it without him even having to turn and show me the broken face of my lost friend. What was it Yveline had said to me? We were bound? I huffed a little after my sudden exertion, stopping in my own tracks and watching him across the short distance between us.

"… Come here."

He hesitantly turned, slowly lifting his gaze to me and shuffled forward, stepping out of the shadow of the wall and into the moon and fire light. The injuries were still there, half his face grated away. He gave another low groan, his steps suddenly quickening as he stumbled towards me and I took a step back, holding up a hand.

"_No_," I said quickly, "No uh, no biting!"

He slowed, the stare dropping to the ground as he kept shuffling closer, making low wet moans and weird, raspy little snarls. He didn't reach for me, but I took a few steps forward to meet him, blinking through the half light at his face. A stunned, shuddering breath escaped me.

"…It's really you, isn't it?" I murmured. That face was the same one I'd seen a few nights ago, a grotesque puzzle that was half pieced back together. I felt my hand lifting, and hesitantly reached out to touch his face, my fingers hovering inches from the broken skin. He gave a hungry groan and turned to my hand, pressing his mouth against my wrist and I pulled back sharply.

"_No biting!_" I said again and a prickly purr came up from his throat. I swallowed carefully, shifting on the spot and feeling entirely stupid for the way I was talking to him. Of all the weird situations I'd ever been in… this was either real, or I was crazy. Whichever way, it couldn't be ignored, not anymore.

"…Look at me?"

His chin lifted and that single doe eye stared right through me. If he could understand what I told him to do… was there a chance he was more than just an animated corpse?

"… _Carlos_? Are you in there?" I said softly. He didn't react and I tried something else. "What do you call a Mexican who can't find his car?"

Nothing. He continued to stare vacantly past me, and I felt my heart drop a little. I'd gotten him with that one once when he'd suggested I didn't understand what 'political correctness' was but the body in front of me continued to just stare into emptiness. I sighed, my shoulders dropping, and after a moment he shuffled closer again – I froze, letting him approach till he was barely inches away from me and he stopped there, standing perfectly still and staring past me. I couldn't really tell but he seemed little happier being closer to me.

"Carlos, come on," I said, quickly putting a hand on his shoulder. The skin was cold and clammy, even under _my_ hand. His stare suddenly lifted when I touched him and fixed on my face, for once seeming to have a little focus.

"You gotta help me out here, let me know if you… you understand _any_ of this?"

_Please tell me you understand._

He didn't move, not till I put a hand to my forehead and frowned, feeling a pain lurch in my chest he moved forward with one last step, cold skin against mine and he rested against me in a half-hug. I blinked with surprise, and let my own arms move around his icy cold body once again. I had no idea what it meant. I couldn't tell if Carlos was really sentient or not, but as I took in a deep breath of his skin… _Carlos_. He'd come back. He'd _fucking come back_, was coming to help me whenever I asked for it without even realising. Was this why he didn't show that night I waited in the cemetery with Johnny? I wasn't in trouble so he didn't come?

The soft wailing of sirens in the distance made me pull away from him and glace about quickly – time to go. And take my zombie with me.

"Carlos, I'm going to take you back now," I told him, my voice struggling over a painful lump in my throat, "I want you to follow me,"

No response, not even a look. But as I started walking to the car, I heard him shuffling on after me till we got to the car. I went for the driver's side but he just started clumsily padding his hands against the glass of the door and I couldn't help but sigh. He can cross half a city when I was in trouble but couldn't open a car door?

"Here," I grumbled as I moved around to his side, yanking the door open and nodding, "Get in."

He crawled in awkwardly and didn't really sit in the seat properly, just sort of stopped settling once he was in the car. I closed the door behind him and he slumped down against the window.

I had honestly considered taking him back to the hideout. I had considered most people would be amazed or something but when I really thought about it… the situation seemed to result more in screaming and crying than happy reunions. So there were no surprises when after the long drive to the North Island I pulled up out the front of the graveyard. He dropped out of the car like any dead body might when I opened the car door, and slowly he shambled to his feet, shuffling off towards the grassy hill of the cemetery, and I was happy enough to follow.

My brain should have been in turmoil, but sometimes, just sometimes, something so fantastic happens that your mind has no choice but to calmly accept the fact. Otherwise, your head just might implode. I might implode later when I was fully capable of understanding what was going on here, but right now, I was just happy to have Carlos back. He slowed to a stop under a tree; the same tree he'd laid me under the night I first saw him. Eventually I came up to a halt beside him and a long silence stretched. I shifted my weight, wondering what the hell I was supposed to do with… the opportunity.

"So… there's really no way you can talk to me?" I asked. Again, nothing more than a vacant stare. It was like having a conversation with an animal, but even then animals could respond to your voice, he would only respond to weird little instincts or urges that I guess only made sense to him. Residue of who he used to be, maybe. That and my commands. I blinked.

"Speak to me." I said sharply.

A deep noise resonated quietly from his throat and he lifted his head, looking through me again.

"…_Buuhhhh_…"

Torn between hope and disappointment I took a step closer and hesitantly put a hand on his arm.

"Do you recognise me? That why you help me?" I asked. It was increasingly clear there was really no way he could reply to me properly but I wanted to badly for this… _shade_ to respond, "Or is it just what that voodoo bitch makes you do?"

His eye rolled slightly focusing just slightly on mine.

"Speak to me Carlos."

"Nrgh. Neh…nh."

My head dropped, and I let myself lean into the reanimated body for a moment. That Carlos scent, now muddled with cold clay sparked countless memories in my mind. He'd had that warm smile, calm air… when he was fighting he was surprisingly brave. He was creative. He could be passionate.

Holding the reanimated cadaver against me I realised with fresh pain that devoured my moment of happiness that this wasn't him, not really. It was cruel, and it was an insult to what my friend had been. I let him go and stepped back from the shell, dusting my clothes off.

"You show me where you came from," I said flatly. He instantly turned and began hobbling off towards a crypt and I hurried after him, my shoes slipping over the thick grass. He pushed the heavy stone door open revealing not a tomb, but a staircase winding deep into the ground. Far below there was the slightest glow of a light, though I still had to put a hand on his cold shoulder for support as we descended. So… this was the dungeon Pierce had mentioned, huh?

For one thing, it stank. But not like you'd expect a sex dungeon to stink like, this one smelt of corpses and death; it was dimly lit by red lights that hung from the walls along long industrial wires, there were some blow-up dolls here and there, a bit of BDSM paraphernalia… parts of the dirt walls were covered by large fabric drapes. I soon found the cause of the smell; there were some half-eaten bodies rotting by an extravagant looking torture device and I realised Carlos must have cleaned the place out when he… 'woke up'.

He was still slinking off through the cavern and eventually stopped at a dirt wall, with a small collapsed hole of loosened earth and bits of wood sticking out. He stared at it for a while, and when I didn't say anything began slowly clawing at the loosened earth, pulling away a bit of glossy oak that still had satin padding lined to one side of it.

"Whoa, hey, it's alright, stop," I said quickly, taking the piece of his coffin out of his hands. I let out a small sigh and stared at the disruption in the wall – digging out of a grave sidewards into the cavern mustn't have been easy and I doubted there was any chance of getting him back in there.

_Keep him… he wants to help you. He can help…_

Carlos gave another low moan and I found myself wishing zombies could make happier noises. What if he was in pain? Could he feel pain? I mean if Yveline was right, I was 'half dead' but I could still get hurt. We stood together in total silence for a while I considered my options. I had something here no one else in the world did… I had my friend back. How many people had lost someone and wished, begged for any part of that person back? All of them, hell it was an official stage of grief. But… I looked at him sidewards, the corpse swaying gently. Something leaked from the bullet hole in his head and I knew seeing Carlos like this wasn't making me happy. He would do anything I commanded him to… I felt my voice hitch in my throat, and I realised what I really wanted for him.

_Don't do it. You always thought he was taken from you too soon, and now he's back!_

"Carlos," I ventured, and slowly he turned, waiting. I swallowed carefully, looking right into his huge dark eye, half wishing I could see something of… _him_ in there. But though he was up and moving, I couldn't see any… soul. It made me really wish what I was about to try would work.

"… Rest in peace," I commanded. Then he blinked. _He blinked_. He hadn't done that before and for the briefest moment I regretted what I told him to do. Slowly that eye closed; I had to swallow another painful lump in my throat when he dropped down to his knees and finally slumped over, becoming a motionless dead body once again. I knelt down next to him, carefully turning his face so I could see him in what little crimson light there was in the cavern.

That one eye was still closed… and the slightest hint of a smile rested over his mouth, the closest thing to an expression the zombie had ever made and I felt the tiny smile mirrored on my own lips. He did look peaceful. I didn't know if I could tell him to wake up again or not but at the moment, I didn't want to. Part of me was still angry that this had even happened to him… not that I couldn't be thankful; he'd been there to save my life. But he deserved peace. Not shambling around in half life, eating people and fighting and…

I brushed a little dirt off his face. I'd have to bury him again, I realised. There were supposedly grave robbers who used to come down here, surely there's be a shovel somewhere. Not much in the way of a coffin, but I could probably use some of those drapes to wrap him up.

"Okay… gonna make this as dignified as I can, I promise," I said to the silent body next to me, then pushed up to my feet, hunting around for what I'd need. Like I thought, the shovel wasn't hard to find, and I chose a quiet nook in the corner of the cavern where the dirt was softest to start excavating. It wasn't easy work either; my only light was a distant glow from one of the lamps and a little flickering orange firelight from a candelabra I'd dragged over to the site. But I dug and dug, unaware of how tired my body was getting or even how deep I'd gotten.

My mind was elsewhere, trying to remember his funeral. The memories weren't sharp; they were vague and watery, like they weren't my own. Like I'd never really been there. I could remember the priest warbling. I could remember a Hispanic woman, someone who must have been related to him glaring at me and accusing me in Spanish, spitting at my feet.

I sniffed, the lump in my throat swelling painfully and I dug at the ground with a little more vigour. I hadn't really reacted when she'd done that, just stared back at her sullenly. It was impossible to be angry at her. Sometimes I was surprised she didn't spit in my face. I paused in my digging, the old, painful hole opening in my chest. _Sometimes I wish she had_.

A heavy breath knocked painfully out of me as I slammed the blade of the shovel into the earth again, breaking up a lump of clay and heaving it out of the pit over my shoulder and I sniffed again, wiping a little sweat from my brow.

I hadn't really been there at the funeral. Even when I stepped up and dropped a flower onto the coffin as it sank down into the ground… there were so many people there, but I wasn't.

_None of them knew_, I nearly said aloud, my hands shaking as I dug harder and harder into the ground, _no one else was there when he died._ No one else had been in the car when he gave me that necklace or the first time he'd kissed me. I guess most people knew he 'had a crush' on me but none of them actually knew what he and I really… or what it was like having to hold his hand, and kill someone who deserved _so much_ to live.

There was a clang as my shovel started hitting stone, letting me dig no further. I stopped, my hands sore with small welts that were rupturing and bleeding onto the wooden handle and looking up I realised I was nearly waist deep in the ground. It'd have to do. I sniffed again, my chest feeling tight and I tossed the shovel up out of the ditch, scrambling out after it. I grabbed another drape, dragging it down and lining the ditch with it.

Then, I went to get Carlos. It wasn't particularly graceful, pulling him down into the grave with me but I was determined, taking the loose bits of the drapes and wrapping them tightly around his body, covering his face last. I had to stop to catch my breath after all that, sitting in the grave with him, waiting till I had the will to climb out and bury him for a second time.

I sniffed again, giving a shuddering breath. I mightn't have been able to cry for him, but the exhaustion I felt, the blood and sweat from digging the grave… I could give him that at least. I'd have dug to fucking China if it would have meant any more. I looked to the wrappings, and leant forward, placing a bloodied palm on them. I felt like I should say something. Sorry. Goodbye.

"Thankyou," was what slipped out of my mouth and even I don't know what for. Finally I heaved my tired body up, crawling up out of the hole and hunting in the half-light for the shovel, and with aching muscles I began piling the earth back on top of him. The pain in my chest got a little sharper and I gasped from what I thought was exhaustion, trying to breathe over the lump in my throat, and I felt a little sick when I saw the piles of dirt landing on the tightly wrapped body below. I sniffed again, my eyes feeling hot and my chest was tight; it still didn't feel right, that he should be hidden down here. I should have done more for him… I should have been _fucking awake_ at his real funeral.

Finally I realised I was piling dirt on top of an already filled grave and stopped, sticking the shovel into the ground and resting against the handle of it, huffing gently. I waited there a while, waiting for maybe something poetic to come into my head so I could say it over his body. True to graceless form, nothing came to mind. I rested the shovel against a boulder and brushed my sore, bloodied hands over my pants, sparing one last look at the patch of disturbed earth before finally taking my leave.

I had decided long before I got home not to tell anyone, _anyone_, about what happened that night. I buried the secret along with Carlos, accepting that some things, for better or worse, should be put to rest.

* * *

><p><strong>*Sigh*. Bye bye Carlos. Again. Gee whiz I miss writing that kid.<strong>


	52. U: ROW ROW! Fight tha Powa!

***tear* *sniff* can't believe we're actually here.**

**On account of the next (and last) chapter being freakishly long (three parts long, to be exact), I'm gonna go ahead and let rip with all the gooey gushy nonsense now. THANKYOU everyone who read, reviewed, favourite-d or subscribed and for sticking with me over this friggen epic journey. I'm glad I actually bothered to see this fic the whole way through. I went over the numbers, as is habit...**

**By the time this thing is finished it'll be about 230k words. Perspective? LOTR: Fellowship of the Ring was 187k. HP and the Deathly Hallows? 198k.**

**I guess I found something better in writing than getting paid for it or getting published, and it was simply the fact I had people out there reading my work and pushing me to be better. I've learnt a lot about my own creative capabilities, and I don't think that would have happened if I hadn't gone through with this project.**

**And I honestly have you guys to thank for it.**

* * *

><p>I wrapped my hair up tightly at the back of my head, securing that cow-lick lock of hair that always flopped down in front of my face back tightly with a few discreet clips.<p>

I never thought that what I was going to _wear_ would be one of the hardest decisions to make for this mission. Firstly I was all about functionality and armour… but then, I needed something that would blend in, not get me noticed. Something professional. Classy.

I smoothed the silk shirt down and tugged the blazer on to cover the guns strapped to my ribs before slipping dark shades over my eyes. Sleek, professional. A little out of my comfort zone. Flat shoes but that was just logical. With one last approving look in the mirror I nodded deftly, turning on my heel and stepping out into the hallway, following it down to the foyer beyond. The hideout was a hive of restlessness; no partying or kicking back this time, every crew was arming themselves or talking in small groups and hushed voices. Johnny, Pierce and Shaundi were in the thick of it, turning to look at me as I descended the stairs. Pierce raised his eyebrows at me and gave a single short laugh;

"… Yo Gat, permission for a two syllable damn?" he said, nudging Johnny on the shoulder who had a half grin.

"Granted."

"_Day-aaam!_" Pierce greeted approvingly as I reached the small group and Shaundi just gave a low chuckle at him. I know he was trying to lighten the mood, but I was relishing the serious atmosphere at the moment. I needed it to keep my own head straight.

"We synched?" I asked, tugging my sleeve up to check the time and they all mimicked me.

"Yep," Shaundi replied, glancing from my watch to hers. I turned to address Pierce and Shaundi flatly:

"Remember, _mayhem_. Mostly Ultor stuff but we need the cops distracted too,"

"Yes Boss-"

"This is high risk," I reminded them, "Get your jobs done and watch each other's backs. The conference starts at noon by then I want you both heading to the Row."

"But what about you?" Pierce questioned. I glanced to Johnny and he gave me a small smile and slight nod.

"I got Gat," I assured him, "We also got some Saints in the crowd, plain clothes."

Shaundi shifted her weight with agitation and looked to me, a frown over his sleek eyes "…Boss… I think we should go with you-"

"No."

"Why not?" she shot back almost instantly and I felt my hands rest on my hips.

"The same reason the Royal Family won't fly in a plane together," I said. I'd meant it as a throwaway comment but all three of them suddenly looked to me with dawning realisation. I knew my task was dangerous today… I'd be putting myself right out in the open for the sake of making a statement and now I guess it really hit home for them too. I lifted my chin to my lieutenants; "Take care of each other out there. Make sure you come back home."

"Make sure _you_ do," Shaundi said, mirroring me and sitting her hands on her hips.

I couldn't reply to that. There was an eerie, death-like calm in me today… a new feeling. That I was suddenly in integral part of something far, far bigger than me, bigger than the Saints. I had no idea what it meant and I didn't like to dwell on the implications. Shaundi had been watching me and with a sudden worried frown stepped forward and linked her arms around my neck, pulling me into a tight hug. It was a nice enough moment for all of two seconds-

"Chrissakes, harden the fuck up Shaundi," Pierce said, thumping her playfully on the back, and she turned and thumped him back just as hard.

* * *

><p>The news van hid me from most of the crowd; I'd taken out a cigarette and was slowly puffing away at it – to any security or other reporters I'd just look like a journalist who'd slunk of for a smoko. It was a clear, bright day, fresh after the recent rains – the sunlight glinted off the glass and steel buildings that surrounded the church.<p>

I couldn't hold back the sigh when I stared at it. The church that had once been my home now morphed into a glittering tourist attraction that should have been more at home in Disneyland than Stilwater. Vogel had chosen that dramatic setting to hold his press conference, putting up a large stage at the front of it, the plinth lined with security and the centre dominated by a single lectern smothered in microphones. The crowd was getting restless, and I was annoyed; still no sigh of Vogel. I impatiently dragged the last of my smoke down, flicking the butt to the ground and crunching it under my heel. Damn I'd missed those things…

The crowd on the other side of the news van soon let up some gasps and a few started clapping, giving way to another sound – the familiar _whumpwhumpwhump_ of chopper propellers. I poked my head around the side of the van and raised my eyebrows when I saw it – an Ultor attack chopper, closing in fast and gently lowering itself down onto a grassy knoll over the road. Inside, Dane Vogel was waving to the crowd-

"Gotta be fucking kidding me…" I muttered to myself, shaking my head. A team of suited guards began the escort then, leading him over to the stage. He smiled, waved serenely to the crowd, and eventually took his position behind the lectern.

"I'd like to start by thanking you all for attending this conference," he began, and I started quietly edging closer, pulling out my phone and hitting the speed dial, waiting for the answer-

"You in position Johnny?" I said as soon as the rings stopped.

_"Oh yeah,"_ came the reply; he was all but incapable of hiding how much fun he thought this would be. I guessed I was feeling the gravity of the situation a little more.

"Just make sure I get to Vogel."

Up on the podium, Vogel had begun his official statement, "As most of you know the Ultor board of directors were assassinated the other night, and while we at Ultor would like to take the time to mourn their passing, sadly that's a luxury that we don't have,"

I stalked lithely to the side of the stage, quickly slipping behind another news van as I saw a guard turn to glance in my direction; not close enough yet to risk being noticed…

"The corporate office has named me the new chairman," Vogel said, somehow managing to hide the snideness from his voice, "and I want you all to know that not only will business continue as usual, but we will be taking even greater stride forward. Monica Hughes has graciously green-lit a project that is very dear to us here at Ultor, the remodelling of Shivington. In the coming days-"

A sudden gunshot exploded around us, echoing off each building – the crowd made panicked noises, all turning wildly to try and find where it cam from. But I knew the sound of that gun, and my heart leapt into my throat when I whirled to look to the roof of a building opposite, only just able to make out the two figures up top; Johnny, wrestling with a grey figure that must have been an Ultor guard – with a heavy kick Gat sent the man flying off the rooftop, the guard's howl following him all the way down and just like that, the conference exploded in a flurry of panic and screaming.

Not as according to plan as I'd hoped, but Johnny was okay and Vogel was still caught up in the confusion; I wasted no more time, charging for the stage and ducking on the stairs as some of the guards began firing on me. In the crowd I could hears some shouts and shots and knew the handful of Saints hidden in plain-clothes had started their own skirmish to distract as many guards as they could. I managed to pluck off a few from the stage, creeping up the short stairs; but a plethora of guards had taken Vogel now, surrounding him with a human shield. I scrambled to reload as another guard turned his gun on me –

A loud crack echoed around the buildings and a splatter of blood shot out of his head, the force of the sniper's bullet sending him flying to the side. I barely spared a glance up to the rooftop where I knew my guardian angel was perched.

Two more guards charged me and I rolled behind the lectern for cover, letting off a few shots at them, heart hammering – I could just see Vogel from the corner of my eye getting piled into a stretch hummer. Before I knew what I was doing I ran for it, refusing to allow my prey to get away from me. Leaping from the stage as the tyres of the hummer screeched I landed with a heavy thud on the roof, clawing at the slick metal and trying to get to the moon roof I knew I could break through. It swerved violently and I felt myself slip off, clinging to the side of the car, the wind whipping by me and road scraping at my feet; I thought I might be able to shoot through the window, _just_ might be able to get that mother fucker…

I didn't see the fire hydrant. My body slammed into the solid chunk of metal and I was scraped off the car, tumbling down onto the road and bleeding slowly from a huge impact cut on my leg, my whole thigh aching and bruised. With a groan I pushed myself up, seeing the large white car speeding away from me.

I huffed, adrenaline rippling through my blood, the soft buzzing of my cell barely audible over the screams and sirens around me. I fumbled for it, getting slowly to my feet and hobbling for a car as I answered it.

"_Fuck me that musta' hurt,"_ was Johnny's 'sympathetic' greeting. I had no patience though, not when Vogel was getting away from me.

"You see where they're going?"

"_Yeah. Looks like they're headed for the Phillips building. Boss, that's gonna turn into a fuckin fort once they're inside. No way you're getting in on ground floor."_

"MotherAssFuck," I spat, starting in a hobbling jog for an abandoned Five-O.

"_Yeah I'll second that. Yo you still good with flyin' choppers or you want me to call in Tobias?"_

My hand froze on the handle of the car door, reading Gat's mind over the phone line, and my gaze lifted to the huge attack chopper Vogel had arrived in. Any security that had been around it had run off to the skirmish, lost in the confusion of the scene.

"Might be a little more complicated than a police chopper," I muttered into the phone, thought it was more to myself. I abandoned the car, running as best I could for the helicopter. The gash in my leg wasn't bothering me too much; if my suspicions were correct, it'd be fixed up by lunchtime tomorrow.

"You see the best way in from the air?"

"_There's a helipad but it's only halfway up the building and ten to one Vogel's gonna be at the top… hold up…"_ there was a rustling on the other end of the line and I gathered he was using the sights from his rifle to get a better look at it, _"Aight. I'm seein something on the sides, could be air-con stuff, maybe generators… fuck, roadblocks are goin up-"_

"I got it from here Gat. You get to the ground, see if you can get our boys outta there," I hung up the phone once I'd reached the chopper and clambered into the cockpit, tugging the glass closed and staring at the monstrous controls in front of me.

Well, some stuff looked familiar.

I guessed these Ultor choppers were made for average pilots who could be quickly trained up to use them, because most of the controls were pretty much the same, just hidden in a maze of other buttons and handles.

"Okay. You can fly this thing," I assured myself, "Collective control, cyclic control… rudder… up down, forward back, side-side and turning…"

Chopper flying for dummies. I kicked the engine into life; the machine whined as the propellers began picking up speed and I yanked the controls, forcing the bird up. Actually for such a big craft it manoeuvred quite nicely, if bit more sluggish than what I've flown before. It didn't take long to close in on the building and I spied the little units on the outside Gat had mentioned. I hovered in the craft for a while, working out my next move. This thing was an attack chopper, so it must have some kind of weapons system… so I decided on the most reasonable and foolhardy way of finding out.

"Alright… what's this button do?"

I mashed my thumb on a big red button and the chopper suddenly lurched – I yelped and gripped the controls to try and steady it as a long line of smoke shot out from the side of the chopper, the missile slamming into the Phillips building and blowing a huge, fiery hole in the side of it. My jaw dropped and suddenly I was feeling like a kid on Christmas morning, eagerly hunting through the controls for something just as promising-

_Guns, guns…_

* * *

><p>Dane paced back and forth through his office worriedly, his breaths fast and heavy. The security guards would have once given him endless confidence, but he was beginning to realise me may have truly underestimated the Saints.<p>

Particularly their leader.

Damn… that woman had been so useful, having played her part so perfectly, if unwittingly. He should have tried striking a deal with her first. Of course that hadn't occurred to him initially, why bother trying to strike a deal with an uneducated thug? But she was smarter than he'd given her credit for. And far, _far_ more resilient. Dane turned to look back out at the city, the Row now having erupted into chaos below him. He closed his eyes, taking in one long deep breath and holding it. _Go to your safe place, your cave_, he thought to himself. He'd jumped on the meditation bandwagon a while ago but the techniques at times like these were lifesavers.

Till the whole building suddenly rattled and the distant sound of an explosion shook him from his semi-peaceful state. After a moment, the lights flickered out in the building. He whirled to look to his security guards for some sort of explanation;

"Mr. Vogel, sir, there's no need to worry," one tried to placate him while his workmates were instantly radioing in over the building, trying to get a report, "If the power outage is only on this level then the building should still be secure."

Dane took a few steps away from the window, past the guard.

"_If? Should?_ I wish I could share in your confidence, but need I remind you, you also told me the _press conference_ was entirely secure?" Vogel said, whirling around to glare at the guard.

"With respect sir, what could they possibly do?" the suited guard said with a cocky smile, "Fly up here?"

The look on his boss' face answered him, though the thumping of the chopper's propellers was barely audible through the thick glass. He felt a cold weight drop into his stomach as he turned around, seeing the large black craft slowly rise up in front of the huge glass window, a giant, menacing machine. The pilot was barely visible, but the gun turret mounted beneath the cockpit started spinning...

"Holy _shi-_" and he barely had enough time to let out a startled cry before the hurricane of bullets tore the window, and his body, to shreds.

Vogel had already made a run for it, barely dashing out of the room as it was torn apart behind him. The two guards who were left grabbed him and they made a run for a higher room.

* * *

><p>Gat raced along the road, diving behind a cop car as a flash-bang exploded behind him. He quickly reloaded and signalled over a few of the Saints he'd managed to track down, made all the more difficult by the fact they weren't allowed to wear purple for this mission.<p>

"Aight, we gotta clear a way outta here," he said to them quickly as a small crew led by Tasha crouched behind the car with him, "We'll go the north bridge, keep'm away from the hideout-"

"Where's the Boss?" Tasha said breathlessly while the other Saints continued to fire at the Ultor cops in the surrounds. Gat nodded up to the Phillips building where the black, wasp-like aircraft was circling and firing on it.

"She's not gonna let Vogel get away. Determined to make a point with this one," he said casually. Tasha wasn't _quite_ so nonchalant, her jaw dropping as she stared up at what she personally though might have been overkill...

Gat followed her gaze to the now smoking building, narrowing his eyes as he saw the chopper hovering at one of the top floors, unmoving after having unloaded an explosion of ammo into the window. He blinked at it, frowning.

"What's she doing up there?" Tasha asked loudly over the noise of the skirmish. Gat quickly put the sights from his McManus to his eye, getting a clearer look up at the building, and at the helicopter.

"She's not gonna…" he muttered, then slowly his jaw dropped as he saw the glass of the cockpit lift open.

"… Oh holy shit-"

* * *

><p>The flying glass and debris from the barrage of bullets finally settled and cleared, and I peered across the gap into the destroyed office.<p>

Damn, missed him.

I edged the chopper closer to the building, carefully gauging the gap. I'd have to get in there, and by the looks of it there was only one way to do it.

As I've said before, you get blown up, shot, stabbed, drowned, bitten, set on fire, run over often enough and keep on surviving… you start to feel invincible. Cold determination flooded me as I unclipped the casing of the cockpit; a sudden rush of air battered against me as I did and I slowly crawled up onto the nose of the aircraft, refusing to look down. Just across to the landing, my target. My hands tried to grip on the warm, slick armor of the chopper, my shoes threatened to make me slip off entirely. I inched forward a little mroe to the nose of the craft, bracing my legs, drawing a breath-

"Earn your wings Saint," I muttered to myself, and with a grunt, pushed hard and sprung out over the endlessly deep gap between the chopper and the building, my body hanging in the air…

There was a moment where I saw the distance between myself and the ground stretching out endlessly and I thought I wasn't going to make it. Then I thudded down onto the floor, the shattered glass cutting my clothes; I let the momentum roll my body, feeling safe for half a second til I heard the chopper began whining, buffeted by winds and no one to control it and I realised that mightn't have been my most cunning plan…

My insides turned to ice when I saw the beast lurch forward into the building and the fast-spinning propellers shredding into the floor and sweeping towards me-

I rolled again, the chopper following me along and inches away from crushing me or shredding me alive, the screaming of the engine piercing my ears and the hammering of the propellers against the building striking their way into my core. It was sheer luck when it finally faltered and tumbled back out, flailing like a bird with a broken wing as it spiralled to the ground below. I crept forward and looked down out the window after it as it shattered, sending a brilliant fireball rolling up in a spectacular explosion.

"Holy shit," I breathed, transfixed for only a moment before remembering why I pulled such a dangerous stunt.

_Vogel_.

I pulled my guns from their holsters either side of my torso, pushing up to my feet and racing across the room. He couldn't have gotten far; I clambered up a small set of stairs letting my instincts guide me, coming to a large ash door I crashed through.

Instantly a bullet whistled past my head and I swung my aim to its origin, glaring down the sights and quickly fired two shots into the head of a suited guard. A noise to my left told me of the second one and I barely had to look, turning my second gun on him and landing a bullet square in his chest, firing another to be sure. It was quiet except for a frantic whimper and scramble from up by the huge desk and I saw Vogel hunting through his drawers, possibly for a weapon. I fired a single warning shot at him and he jumped back, throwing his hands in the air and shakily half-standing.

"Please, please don't shoot! We can talk about this-"

I strode up to him wordlessly and he kept stumbling back till he bumped into the huge window. As I closed in on him he dropped to his knees and I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. _This_ was the pussy I went through so much trouble to kill?

"Alright let's not be too hasty here, you're upset, you're frustrated - _and_ you've got a gun which you know I would _really_ like it if you would put that away," he whimpered as I levelled the barrel of my gun between his eyes.

"You should have thought of that before you sent out a team to wipe out my gang," I warned him icily. He blinked at me, eyes wide and earnest.

"I _tried_ telling the board that going after the Saints was a big mistake!" he said. I raised an eyebrow. He's my _buddy_ now, huh?

"They should have listened to you," I conceded. I could see a false sense of security fall on him then, and he shakily got to his feet, palms still up and open to me, but his body slowly relaxing.

"Believe me right now I am agreeing with you one hundred percent," he said and I tilted my head, and letting my aim drop a little. He ploughed on, "But you have to look at the positives, _you're_ alive, _they're_ dead and you have the Saints _number one fan_ running Ul-"

I only had to flinch my hand to retake my aim, trigger finger flexing and the gun rang out, sending a bullet shooting right through his slime ball mouth. My own special way to say, _shut the fuck up_.

The bullet was through and through, firing out of the glass and all it took was his body stumbling back to break through totally, and he tumbled out of sight. I took a step forward, propping a foot up on the edge of the window and gazing down below, his body shrinking further and further before slamming onto the pavement so far beneath me, splattering like a bug on a windshield.

A heavy gust of wind raced up the side of the building to meet me, carrying the faint sounds of sirens and gunfire from below. It seemed as if the whole Row was being evacuated, like I was looking down on some strange, post-apocalyptic ghost town. The sound of hurried footsteps behind me made me quickly turn and pull my gun – I was a little surprised to see Pierce and Shaundi pull up to a halt and raise their hands briefly at me. I dropped my aim and smiled, though Pierce looked flat out disappointed when he examined the room.

"We missed it?" I whined and Shaundi whacked him on the arm.

"Told ya! Now pay up!"

I turned away from the window fully as Pierce started begrudgingly counting out notes, "Where the fuck were you guys?" I asked dryly and Pierce sighed.

"Traffic."

"What?"

"He's not joking," Shaundi piped up, "The roads have been blocked off."

I nodded, looking quickly back out the window, "You see Gat out there?"

"Oh he's fine," Shaundi said smilingly as she came up beside me to look out at the carnage below, "He's still out there killing cops."

I nodded, "Figures..." I mumbled, pulling out my phone and hitting speed dial. Hardly know what I was worried about. It was only a few rings before he answered.

_"Sup?"_

"It's done. Time to pull outta there," I replied.

_"You sure? _Get the fuck offa me!_"_ There was a loud spurt of gunfire close to his phone but his voice returned shortly after, blasé as ever,_ "I mean I'm not running outta ammo anytime soon."_

I couldn't hold back the smile, "I'm sure, see you back home."

_"Later."_

I hung up the phone, then started scrolling through the numbers, wandering back across the office to the stairs.

"Who you calling now?" Pierce asked and I threw a wry look at him, putting the received to my ear as the line started ringing.

"Our ride."

I lead the way out onto the helipad, the violent gusts of wind from the propellers of Tobias' helicopter ripping at us. Tobias was already leaning up against the bird, a lazy smile on his face and his red dreads covered by a pilot's helmet. I bumped my knuckles against his by means of a greeting and climbed up into the front with him, relaxing back into the soft seat. Pierce and Shaundi clambered in the back and finally Tobias took his position in pilot's side.

"Off like a prom dress," he said with a grin, easing the chopper up into the air.

As we rose up, Tobias slowly circled the Phillips Building, a smoking obelisk of destruction. I couldn't help but smile at the irony; it used to be a sign of Ultor's success and overcompensation. Now, it was a message sent to the whole fucking world.

_We dare you to mess with the Saints._

I reclined back in the seat, looking out the windows far below; as we turned and started for the north island I could see a small skirmish far below, a single splot of purple surrounded by cops… most of whom were little more than bloodied corpses by now. I smiled when Johnny glanced up and waved at us, turning his rifle back onto the cops and clearly having a blast. _Yeah sure, see you at home babe_. I blinked when I heard Pierce's voice call out to me from the back.

"So whaddo we do now Boss?" he asked.

I rasied an eyebrow and stared out the window at my metropolis below, incapable of holding back the dark smile.

"This is our city now," I said softly and my smile broke into a grin, "We do whatever the fuck we wanna do."

To start with, I think I might take that holiday.

* * *

><p><strong>On one more note, ASR is getting published on DeviantArt now too and I'm starting to put together title pages and junk for the chapters. I've cleaned up some spelling errors in earlier chapters, but some of the chappies will include scenes that never wound up getting published on cos they were written long after they had a chance to fit in the story.<strong>

**So god knows how long _that_'s gonna end up being.**


	53. Our Father

**I know I've done this shout out a thousand times before, but a particular thank you to JoeEngland for proof-reading this and fixing up my occasionally dodgy grammar and spelling issues.**

**Anyway, welcome to the finale.**

* * *

><p><strong>Part I: Loose Ends<strong>

I breathed in deeply and took a sip of my beer, refreshingly icy in the surprising heat; the air was thick and heavy now that the spring storms had finally cleared. After a moment I blinked my eyes open, looking up to the panels of the umbrella shading my skin, then out to the ocean view beyond.

"… You were right about this place," I said contentedly, stretching my arms above my head. Beside me Gat shifted on his own recliner, smiling contentedly and (unlike me) soaking up as much sun as he could. Over the 'moon tan', apparently.

"Always am," Johnny said with a contented sigh, taking a swig from his beer, and we fell into another comfortable silence for a while.

"… Gotta ask though," I ventured, and he tilted his head to glance at me, eyebrows raised, "You ever going to get the burnt-out house cleared away?"

We glanced over our shoulders at the blackened shell, now covered in graffiti from local high school kids. Somewhere inside it a cat yowled.

"Not really a huge priority," he said easily and I shrugged, looking back out onto the ocean. Gat fished through the esky next to him for another brew and grunted.

"Just about out – hold up, I'll be back," he said, swinging up to his feet and wandering off towards the truck, black boardshorts slung low over his hips. We'd taken the Alaskan out today – overkill maybe, but it was the only car we had that had enough room for all the crap we lugged out here. I crossed my ankles comfortably, settling my beer down and nabbing the sunscreen, pooling a generous amount into my palm and carefully massaging it over my side. Rusty hadn't been too impressed with the state my new tattoo was in when I went back to get the outlines filled, so I was determined to take good care of the art now. A soft breeze kicked up, breaking the heat and sending a pleasurable chill up my spine. I breathed in the clear ocean air, feeling a serenity I hadn't in a long time.

The soft ringing of my phone rattled the air much to my annoyance, and I blearily glared at my cell which buzzed obnoxiously on the scorched pavers next to me. I fumbled for it, thumb clumsily clicking the button to answer.

"What?" I said, grumpy at the intrusion on my peace. The voice that answered, however, shook me to my core.

"_Same charming greeting as always. How you doin' girl?"_

"… Dex?" I murmured into the phone, sitting up abruptly. He sounded calm, conversational, just like he always had been, all those years ago.

"_Yeah, that's right. Hear you been looking for me."_

"… Checking up on old friends," I said carefully as I quickly swung my feet off the recliner, making a quick move towards where Johnny was hunting around in the back of the truck, "… Congrats on the new job."

He only gave a sardonic sound at that, then after a beat, he continued, _"I also hear you been lookin' for Julius. Meet me at the church, four pm. I can help you find him."_

My voice caught in my throat, "The catch?" I croaked.

"_You come alone, you don't kill me,"_ He said calmly. I considered his words– it didn't seem so far fetched, and it wouldn't be the first time he sold someone out to save his own hide. My feet sunk into the long grass as I made it to the car, Johnny turning to watch me curiously when he heard me approach.

"… Deal," I said icily. There was a long silence on both ends of the line till I finally hung up on him, a thrill of excitement racing over my skin.

"Who was that?" Gat asked, an inquisitive frown over his face.

"Dex," I replied darkly, staring at my phone. I heard Gat drop the two six packs he'd been carrying back into the tray and he crouched down on the edge.

"_Dex_?" he repeated, his eyes betraying a curious mixture of shock and excitement, "He called you? What's he want?"

I squeezed my phone into the tiny pocket of my shorts, "He wants to meet me at the church at four," I flicked my sunglasses up onto my head, looking up to Johnny, the peace of the day already evaporating, "He says he can tell me where to find Julius… if I don't kill him."

Johnny's jaw dropped a little and he slumped down to sit on the edge of the tray, "You _agreed_?" he pressed, stunned. I felt a dark grin curl about my lips.

"I said _I_ wouldn't kill him. Didn't say anything about _you_."

It only took a moment for the shock and anger to vanish from Gat's face, replaced with a fully satisfied smile. He reached out and hooked a finger into the waistband of my shorts and tugged me closer.

"You know how to please a guy," he said with a dry laugh and I felt my smile widen. After seeing Johnny's reaction to the phone conversations, I knew I would let him have Dex if I could. Johnny pressed a kiss into my hair and I leant against him comfortably, my hands slipping around his hips with a little relief; his laid-back charm was infectious and saved me from the tailspin of nervousness that threatened when I thought about finding Julius. I stretched up onto the tips of my toes and pressed a brief kiss onto his throat.

"Apparently I do…" I teased back quietly – I felt him release a deep, contended breath, but it was when I let my tongue slip out to taste the skin over his jugular vein he writhed a little, settling a little more comfortably on the edge of the tray. The dark, sexy smile returned as his hands moved to grip me tightly around the waist, lifting me onto him. I let my leg slip over to straddle his hips, my cold fingertips delicately scratching at his stomach and being burned by his sun drenched skin. He softly kissed me again.

"You're a ten second car, y'know that?" he murmured between kissing and I smiled quizzically.

"…What?"

He didn't answer right away, indulging instead in deepening the kiss hungrily, "…Zero to sixty in ten seconds," he finally said with a quiet chuckle and incredulous shake of his head, and I felt my nose crinkle.

"Yeah, cos' you're complaining," I said sarcastically, "Like impending bloody vengeance hasn't 'cheered' you up," I added slyly, relaxing myself against his torso and enjoying the slowly heating kisses he was smiling into. Mmm, makin' out… it was when I felt his fingers move a little higher up my back to toy with the ties of my bikini top that an odd wave of playfulness washed over me. The hand that had been tracing patterns over his stomach carefully slipped lower to his naval- "… Ten… nine… eight-" I murmured between kisses and he snorted a laugh. I let my gaze flicker up to watch his reaction, drinking it in; the gentle lip bite of anticipation as my fingertips slowly traced patterns lower and lower, the soft intake of a breath-

"Argh!" he grunted with a half laugh as I hit a ticklish spot on his hip and in his sudden jolt he slipped a bit back into the trunk, twisting awkwardly to try and right himself. I pressed my lips softly onto his jaw, still smiling, nails still tracing patterns, and letting my index finger hook into his waistband tauntingly-

"Seven… six-"

"ThreeTwoOne-" He finished impatiently, crushing his mouth onto mine. I shivered and couldn't help but grin as his fingers twisted around the ties of my top and quickly tugged them loose, turning and impatiently pinning me down into the tray. I relished it, his warm and familiar weight on me – the sun was still soaked into his skin and it felt like he was made of fire, those hands that slipped away from my back and around to my front, light and taunting…

I could never hold back the soft sighs when he touched me like that; I kissed him again, letting my tongue slip into his mouth as I wrapped my legs around his hips, finding myself becoming lost in it all over again, that sigh becoming a little louder when he pressed up against me.

"I should take vacations more often," I barely breathed, running my cool fingertips down his chest, tracing the outlines of his muscle over his stomach, letting my fingers find the waistband of his board shorts again and curling around the elastic before I let my hand slip under the fabric.

I smiled as Johnny suddenly groaned into my mouth, daring to break the kiss for a brief moment to mumble against my lips-

"_Second it_."

* * *

><p>That afterglow stayed with me for the rest of the day, right back to the hideout. Even as we talked over a brief plan and got to arming ourselves I was still walking on sunshine, right up till 3:55, when we pulled up in the Bezier outside the church. It was only at that point, when I looked up at my old home, that the seriousness of what we were going to do began to hit me. I don't know if Johnny was feeling it as much as I was though.<p>

"You sure you can still walk on sanctified ground?" he asked lightly. I thumped him gently on the arm before going to check my faithful GDHC.50 again. I'd have preferred my rifle but Dex would probably get the wrong idea if he saw it, no doubt he had some lookouts posted around this place. The thought made me throw one last smile at Johnny before I slipped out of the car – at least I was going to have one lookout of my own.

"I'll see you soon," I said briefly, leaning back against the window. Johnny lowered his glasses to level a piercing gaze directly at me.

"_Keep_ your phone _on_," he said by means of goodbye. I just gave him a smile and leant back from the car, and he pulled away from the curb. I admittedly watched till he turned the corner, off to find an inconspicuous parking space before taking up his post. Then I turned to the church, looking warm in the afternoon light. It was so strange, that being in such a familiar place was now so alien. Even climbing the steps up to the front of the church, I had to shake my head; the old oak doors had been replaced and looked far too new for a building like this. I pressed my palm down onto the brass handle, and stepped inside.

The church felt colder than I remembered. It smelt different… like fresh paint and new carpet. How many years since this place had been renewed and it still had the air of a model house.

My footsteps were muted over the carpet run between the pews, each one glossy and looking like they'd never been used, not the old rough ones that Saints would uncomfortably crash on or tear apart for firewood. Soon I found my eyes scouring the walls for any sign of what this place used to be; a bullet hole, a graffiti stain, anything. But it was as if nothing but the very bones of the church had been kept. I blinked at the thought and gazed up to the rafters; a second floor balcony had been put in that hadn't been there before, but it was the same thick old rafters that held up the rooftop. There were two above me that were still blackened with smoke from barrel-fires we used to light; seeing them, the life of the church began to fill in, my eyes piecing my old home back together. The white plaster of the walls seemed to crumble away, the carpet decayed under my feet, and the stain glass windows cracked and till my imagination allowed me to see it all as it had been. The afternoon sun began to sink till it glinted through the circle stain glass window high up in the stones, the sight of which made me smile with remembrance. The sill of that small round window was deep, it had been My Spot. I figured out once clambering through a hole in the roof and through the rafters I could perch myself up there whenever I wanted to be alone or read or draw – not only that but it was a great lookout point.

For ten, maybe fifteen minutes, I trod the old boards, consumed by the memories. Sudden footsteps behind me caused the old church to vanish and be replaced by the clinical reality around me, sending a chill racing up my spine. I felt myself scowl as I turned to meet my former comrade.

"The fuck took you so long-?" I growled but the severity of my tone vanished when I saw the figure. At first I thought the man was just a… janitor or cleaning guy or something. I couldn't place the features… or, more accurately, I didn't want to. Then he spoke.

"You ain't Dex," Julius said flatly, that deep, majestic voice tainted by colloquialism echoing through the church.

"... Neither are you," I replied lowly, my lips barely moving. Every muscle in my body had become perfectly still as I drew in the sight before me… it was… fucking _surreal_.

Julius shifted his weight a moment before taking a few steps towards me, "You look different," he said casually, "Did you do-"

"I didn't do shit to my hair," I shot suddenly, whipping the gun from it's holster and aiming it squarely between his eyes. The stunned feeling I'd had before was quickly evaporating. I'd been waiting for this. I'd been waiting for him. He took a quick step back from me again, his hands raising a little, palms towards me. His regal air was gone… the veil that used to be over my eyes when it came to him had been lifted the day I woke up from that coma… and looking at him now, he was just a man. Prone. Vulnerable.

"You pullin' a gun on me?" he scolded sharply in the same chiding tone I'd heard him use before and I felt my lip curl into a snarl. At this point I could feel my phone vibrating in my back pocket, but for the first time I purposely ignored it.

"Well I didn't have time to plant a bomb in the church so this'll have to do," I said dryly back at him.

He slowly shook his head, eyes staying fixed on me, "You don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"Why don't you educate me?" I said quietly.

"I don't have to explain shit to you!" Julius shot back, the old fire reigniting behind his eyes, and I could feel the cold grip of restraint around my anger weakening.

"This is where we're gonna have to agree to disagree," I said as I gripped my gun tighter and Julius' eyes flickered to it, his hands lowering a little.

"Why don't you just put the gun down," he said with a sudden change of tone, "We both know you ain't gonna use it."

My eye twitched. "Not yet."

I drew back the gun and in a single wide step closed the gap between us, bringing the butt of the gun down hard over his head. I'd only meant to hit him once, but as soon as I felt the gun crack onto his skull all the pain and fury I'd been trying to buckle down, trying to keep control of, exploded from somewhere in me. - He dropped to the ground and I followed him, pinning him and smashing the gun into his face over and over again, trying to placate the starved monster within me.

He writhed and tried to push me back, shouting out at me, "Stop!"

I stopped the gun mid-swing, "I never thought I'd see you _beg_ Julius," I sneered and his dark eyes fixed on me furiously, one half closed and bloodied.

"I'm not beggin'," he said breathlessly, "I'm trying to talk some _sense_ into you."

"I'm tired of listening to your bullshit!" I had no clear thoughts at that point, nothing but the feeling of rage coursing through every inch of me. My phone buzzed silently in my back pocket again and I almost threw it against the wall.

"Pull it together!" Julius now shouted, stalling, stalling… "Dex _wanted_ us in the same place!"

"Yeah? And why'd he want that?" I said sarcastically, impatiently, till the sound of glass shattering caught both our attentions and I finally realised what Julius had been trying to say. A smoke bomb had crashed through a stained glass image of Christ and rolled over the floor towards us, thick smoke pouring out.

"Can we kill each other later?" Julius said and I quickly got up, cringing at the gun in my hand. Dammit, if this was the Masako there was no chance one pistol would be enough…

"Upstairs," I said quickly, making a quick move towards the stairs, "You strapped?" I threw over my shoulder to Julius who was hurrying through the thick smoke after me. Julius pulled a gun that had been holstered at the back of his belt.

"Old habits die hard playa."

* * *

><p><strong>Part II: Blood In, Blood Out.<strong>

Johnny had chosen the second storey balcony of a bar as his vantage point; he could sit out on the terrace and pretend to be admiring the view of the church, not be disturbed. Still, the scotch sat untouched in front of him, the ice cubes slowly melting away into the amber liquid. Johnny drummed his fingers impatiently against the wooden tabletop.

He wasn't as geared up as he wanted to be; having to be incognito for this job left him (in his opinion) severely underarmed. Nothing but a handgun and SMG strapped under his jacket, and for surveillance, the sights from his McManus. B ut not the actual rifle.

"Better not have piked, you fuckin'…" he muttered lowly, finally taking a small mouthful of scotch before he saw it, the small figure, slowly moving up the steps of the church. Johnny quickly put the sights up to his eye to get a closer look, but the figure he found in the crosshairs…

… No. It looked like Dex but… he was too old. Gat scowled, and soon the man glanced over his shoulder, turning enough to show his face properly to Johnny.

"What the _fuck_?" he breathed. He was frozen in stunned silence for only a second as he stared back at his old leader's face before realising what was happening, and quickly turned the sights up to the other buildings. Dex wouldn't be going into that church, that much was obvious.

"Where are you, you sonofa-"

He first saw a grey-clad Ultor guard posted on the helipad of the Phillips building, talking into a radio on his collar. Johnny quickly turned his sights to the rest of the buildings, feeling furious bile rise in his throat when he saw him.

Two buildings away, on a rooftop courtyard overlooking the church, was Dex. Strapped up in a fine suit, speaking into a radio and watching the church like a hawk, and as Gat turned his sights down to the roads he could see Ultor sedans silently and swiftly closing in on the church.

Johnny nearly knocked the table down he was on his feet so fast. He shoved his way back inside past the early patrons and through the bar, quickly putting his phone to his ear after clicking speed dial.

"C'mon, _answer_…" he growled, but the tone rang out, "God _dammit_ woman!" he snapped at the phone, sticking it back into his pocket.

It was a trap, a fucking trap. And once again she wasn't answering her fucking phone even after he told her to! Johnny raced his way down the stairs and out onto the street, glancing across the road to the church then down the road to the building he knew Dex was hiding in like a _rat_. Already he could see the dark Ultor sedans surrounding the church, the handful of hired guards hopping out and taking cover behind their cars, guns drawn. Johnny was torn – instinct told him to get into that church and save her but he knew the plan was irrational. He was underarmed, and already the Masako were on their way. He glared down the street, seeing a Bear pull up to one side of the church and a flood of masako come pouring out, crouching in a run.

"All right asshole," he snarled, striding fast towards the building hiding Dex. He quickly tried calling the Boss again as he jogged discreetly as he could towards the building, slipping into an alley and hunting out the fire escape. Again, the phone rang out and he nearly shouted in frustration, clicking another number on speed dial as he began clambering up the fire escape.

"_'Sup Gat?"_ came the lazy greeting and Johnny huffed, a wave of ice running through him as the shooting started. _Hang in there babe,_ he thought desperately.

"Pierce, get your boys and get to the Row, we need backup," he ordered sharply.

"_What's happening?"_

"Fuckin' masako, no time! Just move your ass!" Gat shouted down the line and hung up. The shouting was his mistake; one of the guards on the ground saw him and turned his aim up, firing a few shots. Gat ducked on the fire escape, bullets whistling by as he quickly kicked in a window, diving inside for cover and cringing as he landed on the broken glass. When he looked up he found himself in a huge open plan office space, clearly waiting to be rented out. Outside the sound of gunfire was getting louder and faster, and he could sense the time escaping him.

"Stairs," he huffed to himself, getting up and hunting through the space.

* * *

><p>Dex pressed his palms against the concrete rail, watching the mayhem below. A few of his generals had still thought it was overkill, sending a whole Masako squad to try and take out just two people…<p>

He was starting to think not even Godzilla would be enough to take out that girl.

The church below was surrounded, and he could only assume it was chaos inside. She'd only have had to kill one or two and gotten their guns, and then… well. It would get tougher for his boys then. _Should have just planted a bomb in the church, a neat little homage to the both of them,_ he mused to himself. But even then…, what was the guarantee?

Not for the first time, Dex considered that this was a huge mistake. He'd never really gotten _that_ close to the girl; something about her not ever telling anyone her name made it hard for him to trust her. And she rarely ever put two words together whenever there were too many people around. Still, she was a threat. A threat to everything he'd worked for, and everything he'd sacrificed.

There was a rumbling of engines in the distance, and he felt a wave of dread and disappointment as a convoy of royal purple cars came screaming down the street. They scrambled into the skirmish, distracting the Masako – Dex quickly put his binoculars to his eyes when he saw two small, dark figures making a dash out the far side of the church.

"God _dammit!_" he swore as he saw the girl and Julius scrambling into a car. A shock of static noise caught his attention.

"_August to Caesar, come in."_

Dex clicked the talkie on, speaking into the microphone, "Caesar here."

"_Orders concerning Saints in from the south west?"_

Dex frowned thoughtfully, eventually speaking to his general, "Most likely decoys. Stay on target."

"_Roger that."_

How could she have gotten away? That girl had more lives than a damn cat, she was so _unkillable_.

"She's like a fucking cockroach!" Dex hissed to himself, then suddenly froze as the cold muzzle of a gun was pressed up against the back of his neck. An icy, long forgotten voice responded.

"That really how you gonna talk about old friends?" Johnny growled darkly.

Dex's spine suddenly straightened; behind him, Johnny twisted the gun against the base of his skull and his glare intensified.

"Call them off. Now," he growled lowly. There was a tense beat when Dex hesitated, and Gat jolted the gun against the base of the other's skull, "NOW!" He shouted sharply, and Dex hesitantly raised his communicator to his mouth.

"Team alpha one, this is Caesar," he said, trying to ignore the derisive snort Johnny gave, "Hold your fire we're aborting the mission."

"_Sir?"_ the voice crackled back over the radio.

"Abort the mission, priority order!" Dex snapped back and the answer was prompt.

"_Yessir."_

The two were still and silent, Gat watching hawk-like from their vantage point as he could see troops clambering back into the Bears and helicopters beginning to turn.

"… You know it's one thing to drop your flags and leave your friends when they need you," Gat purred coldly, "Another thing entirely to use a fuckin army to try and take us out."

Dex's previous nervousness had just about vanished, and he glanced sharply over his shoulder, "You know why Ultor was gunnin' for the Saints-"

"This isn't about what Ultor wanted and you know it," Gat interrupted, then after a beat took a small step back, "Turn around. Slow."

Dex complied. Finally, the two stood face to face, Dex's eyes narrowed at the gun, then at Gat.

"Put the gun away Johnny," he said calmly but Gat saw through the ruse instantly, giving short, cold shake of his head.-

"Gotta be fuckin' kidding me…" he muttered, "After all that shit you pulled and you just think I'm letting you go?"

"If you were gonna kill me you woulda done it by now," Dex tried reasoning. His eyes flickered to the gun again as he tried to calculate how he might be able to get out of this – though he had to remind himself, as good a fighter as he was there was very little chance he'd actually be able to beat Gat. But maybe enough to get away…

"Or maybe I just wanted some answers before I put a bullet in your head asshole-" Gat seethed, nudging the gun closer, and a tired breath escaped Dex. He knew this would come.

"Fuck…" he said tiredly, "I had to get out Johnny. I couldn't tell y-"

"You had to get out?" Johnny repeated darkly, waving the gun then dropping his aim. Dex stayed still, the other was too quick with that gun, "And sell out the whole gang to do it?"

"How did I sell them out?" Dex shot back defensively, "All I did was pick the right time and place. That gang wasn't gonna get me anywhere but jail or an early grave and you know it. I took my shot."

"Yeah, then you took your shot at me n' the Boss too. Even after you was out, you kept comin' for us to make sure we didn't fuck up your perfect little fuckin' world," he replied bitterly, beginning to get worked up. Part of him still didn't want to believe it; that someone he'd trusted so implicitly could have been so two-faced, "Or am I wrong?" he asked quietly, glaring at Dex whose face was hard, "Go ahead Dex. Tell me I'm wrong."

There was a thick silence before Dex spoke, "… I did what I had t-"

"You were my best fucking friend Dex!" Gat suddenly shouted over the top of him, all restraint lost, "We were in _high school_ together you were my fucking _brother!_"

"I got a _kid_ Gat!" Dex shouted furiously back at the other man, "I made the right choice for _my son_."

Gat felt his jaw drop and he tried to work out if this was just Dex's way of trying to weasel out, "… _What?_"

Dex sighed, eyes boring into the other man's, "I found out about Junior… I… _ no_. Fuck you man I'm not sayin' anymore," he said with a sharp shake of his head. He glanced up, trying to read his former friend's reaction but Johnny's face was expressionless, save a small crease between his eyebrows.

A long silence hung in the air as Johnny stared at Dex, hunting for any sign of deceit. Dex's mind, however, was more concerned with other things. Would backup be coming for him? He glanced to some of the surrounding buildings, surely one of his lookouts would have seen…?

After a long moment Gat's shoulders dropped, "Why didn't you _tell_ me? For fuck's sake there were better ways."

"Not for me bro," Dex said coldly, "Junior changed my world."

"… Don't you fuckin' think, for _one second_ that parading your boy around in front of me is gonna get you sympathy," Gat said suddenly, raising his gun back at the other man, reminding him of who was in control of the situation, "You _knew_. You knew about Troy, and you didn't tell a single one of us-"

"If I _did_, he would'a come after me and I would'a been locked up and never get to see my b-"

"_FUCK_ YOU!" Gat suddenly roared, launching himself at Dex and swinging the butt of the gun into his former friend's neck. Dex gasped and stumbled back, grabbing at Gat's wrists and swearing, trying to out-muscle the other. They grappled, but Gat was stronger, more practised, and pinned the other down, drawing back his fist and smashing it across Dex's face again and again, blind with fury and pain, "Don't you fuckin' tell me!" he yelled between thumps, "_Don't_ you fucking tell me about being locked up you _god damn asshole!_"

Gat finally pulled back, going to stand but gripping Dex by his collar as he did, pulling the other up only to throw him back down in disgust. Dex grunted painfully as he rolled to a stop on the concrete roof top, crawling back up onto his knees. Steadying his breaths, his heart aching, Johnny continued to spit out his words and pace agitatedly, "_You_ would'a missed out? I spent nearly three years on Death Row. _Death fucking Row_ Dex! _Knowing _there was _no_ chance of ever getting away, knowing that I'd be missing out on the best years of my life that I should'a had with Eesh, instead thinking every second I was locked up she was out here. _Alone,_ putting her _own_ life on hold because she was that much of a god damn angel that she wasn't gonna leave me. _Your_ boy? What about _my_ family?" Gat shouted, the old, buried pain for everything he'd lost suddenly blazing to the surface, "… You could'a stopped it Dex. You could'a _stopped_ half the crew getting killed, the other half getting locked up. You could'a stopped the Boss getting _blown the fuck up_ and trapped in a god damn _coma_ for nearly four years, but instead you sold us all the fuck out."

Dex's hand shook as he put it to his bleeding lip, spitting out a tooth as he watched Johnny with aching eyes, "…I wish I could'a seen another way-"

"Talkin' to us might have been a good start," Johnny growled, his voice suddenly deeper, quieter, a tone Dex knew was a bad sign. When Johnny was angry he could be distracted, he could be swayed. But he was getting to a quiet place now, a killing place… "Don't you use that kid as an excuse Dex, even _if_ there's a fucking kid," Gat continued darkly, "You know we could'a found another way."

Dex slowly got up to his feet, "… I ain't like you Johnny," he said calmly as he could, watching the other man closely, "We both knew that from the start. It's why we made a good team."

The stillness in Gat's features faltered, "… So why'd you keep coming after us? The minute we were back, why'd you keep coming?"

"I knew you'd come after _me_," Dex confessed; he knew he was no match for Gat, not now. He reached for his only option; honesty, and trying to appeal to whatever rationality might have been left in his once-friend, "I got a life now, a good one," he said, his words catching in his throat as he thought of his small, silently begging himself to live for them.

Johnny felt his head slowly shake.

"… You're a smart guy Dex," He said quietly, "Responsible." He lifted his gun, training it carefully on Dex's torso. The other man trembled, wiping away blood from his mouth and slowly holding up his hands, beginning to realise there was no chance of talking or fighting his way out of his past.

"Johnny, Johnny please-"

Gat ignored him, "So I know you got your affairs in order. I reckon you did that the second you found out about Junior…" Gat sniffed, and felt his palm sweating. He re-gripped his gun, "We'll keep an eye on him. Stay outta their lives, sure, but… they'll be okay."

Dex felt his throat get tighter; he'd never felt particularly afraid to die, but now… seeing what his stupidity had gotten him, he didn't want to die. If he could stall, a moment longer… Slowly he began shaking his head imploringly and took a step towards the man with his life in his hands.

"Johnny… I'm _beggin_' you brother-"

The shot rang out and the bullet slammed into Dex's chest; the man's body jolted and he buckled forward, his eyes wide with shock as his hand raced up to the wound, cupping the blood as it slowly poured forward and trickled from between his fingers. He stumbled closer still to the edge of the building.

Gat gritted his teeth furiously when he found his hand shaking – _dammit, a fucking weak shot._

"You stopped bein' my brother long ago Dex," he said darkly in an almost whisper.

Johnny lifted his aim again but the instant it did, the door behind them burst open. Instinct moved him, launching himself forward and grabbing Dex, whirling sharply and putting his hostage between himself and the armed guard that had followed him up here.

"Back off!" Johnny shouted sharply at the guard as he pressed the muzzle of the gun against Dex's temple. Dex coughed a small pool of blood up, weakly tugging at Johnny's arm that was tight over his throat. The guard cringed, staring down the sights of his rifle but plainly had no chance at a clear shot.

"Let him go," he tried to reason, taking a few steps forward But Johnny was unperturbed.

"_One more step_," He shot back darkly, "And you'll be scraping his brains off this rooftop." Gat started half dragging the other man along, edging his way around to the door as the lone guard started circling in turn.

"Dammit take your shot!" Dex coughed at the guard, whose trigger finger twitched.

"Do it and you're both dead," Gat returned threatening. _Dammit_, he thought, _how's this all gone to shit so fuckin' fast?_

The guard cringed again, his whole body tense as he tried to make the decision, just as Dex's stronger sense of self-preservation kicked in.

"Wait!" He said quickly, holding a shaking palm up at the guard, "Listen, if he kills me, the hunt's back on for Saint One!"

"What?" Johnny snapped instantly, his attention deflecting fro the briefest moment back to Dex – the guard took that short chance to rush forward a few paces but froze as soon as Johnny's furious glare turned back to him. Dex gave another small cough, a bubble of blood leaking again from the bullet wound.

"You heard me. You finish this and every soldier, every attack chopper will level the city lookin for _her_, we'll blanket bomb Shivington if we have to," Dex hissed, his breathing laboured and choked as a small spill of blood spattered from between his lips. The threat might have been an exaggeration, but it was effective none the less.

"You really think your limp-dick cops-for-hire could even _touch_ her?" Johnny snarled back with far more certainty than he felt. He knew she was underarmed out there…

"You wanna take that risk?" Dex grunted back through trembling lips, his dark skin becoming slightly ashen, "Go on Johnny. Me or her? What's sayin' we didn't already get her? Or maybe Julius managed to finally finish it?"

Johnny's grip on Dex tightened threateningly; he'd fucked up his shot at Troy before, could he make the same mistake here? He glared over at the guard who'd started inching his way forward; with the injury Dex had, that guard's priority would be getting his boss to a hospital, not taking up the chase. Johnny gritted his teeth furiously; no matter which was he looked at it, there was really only one choice.

"You better _run_ and fuckin _hide_," he hissed lowly to Dex, "I'm not comin' alone next time."

With a furious grunt he threw the other man forward and crashing into the guard, the two toppling down and Gat instantly raced for the door. As he expected, one or two poorly aimed shots followed, but the guard didn't dare chase him.

Johnny sped down the stairs two at a time and ripped his cell from his pocket, hitting the speed dial and whipped the phone to his ear. After a few short rings, relief washed through him as the familiar voice quietly answered.

"_Hey Johnny,"_

"Hey. You alright out there?" he said, forcing normalcy into his voice, dropping another flight in seconds.

"… _I'm fine,"_ came the low response. It was clear she'd picked up on his stress though, "_What's happening?"_

Johnny couldn't answer right away as he found the ground floor, starting to huff a little as he pressed through the building,

"…Nothing babe," He finally decided, "I'll… I'll tell you when you get home."

He thought the answer sounded a little disbelieving. _"…Alright. I'll see you there."_

* * *

><p><strong>Part III: Resurrection<strong>

I am so fucking sick of the Masako!

Try to have a drink after a long tattoo job? Masako show up. Try to get a live interview with Jane Valderama? Masako show up. Try to kill your old gang leader? Yep, without fail, fucking Masako show up.

It had been a close one, getting out of that church. The smoke had wound up helping us more than we realised; that and Julius and I had quite a bit of practise defending that place from outside invaders. Still, no matter how much guns and ammo we took from the bodies I knew we couldn't hold off forever so when the backup arrived I wasted no time in hauling Julius out of there.

We took his car, a little black convertible; he drove, I shot. Luckily the old man's nerves were still good and he could keep the car steady while I aimed. The Ultor cops followed us over the bridge to the north island, clearly not taken in by the distraction my Saints were trying to cause.

I let the last of a round of bullets loose into the windshield of one of the Five-Os, the car swerving and sliding around on the road, slamming into the one next to it and sending them both riding up onto the pavement.

"How you holding up playa?" Julius called out to me over the noise of the wind and roar of engines.

"Running low – hope you got a plan?" I replied as I hastily grabbed another clip and snapped it into place. The Five-Os weren't a problem at the moment, their only real job was to try and watch where we were going. It was that Bear a way off behind them gaining on us that was going to be the problem. Its turret moved to us, a short burst of bullets slamming down on the road around us, digging into the back of the car and blowing out the back tyres with a deafening _BANG_.

"Julius!" I snapped at him when I realised he hadn't answered me – he was scowling at the road that twisted along the water's edge and we were fast reaching the north shore. The Bear was still gaining and I fired at the tyres of the sedan in front of it; the car screeched along the road, suddenly slowing, and the Bear slammed right into it. But it wasn't that easy, it never was – the tank-like thing just rolled right up over the top of it, roaring thunderously as it sped to catch up to us.

Julius turned the car sharply down a boulevard that lined a large park – it was some tacky place, a historic or theatrical or… one of those societies lobbied to have put in. Some shitty ditch of an amphitheatre lined with Grecian columns and a huge souvenir shop. We limped the car down the road that ran alongside it as the Bear lurched up alongside _us_, too close for the turrets to hit. But it suddenly swerved, slamming into the side of our car. I heard Julius swear as he tore at the steering wheel but the busted tyres weren't helping and we mounted the curve, gliding across the grass. I didn't want to waste bullets on the Bear; I knew they'd bounce right off the damn thing, but it sped up behind us so fast I couldn't help myself, rattling the gun into the windshield. I focused onto one spot, hammering and hammering the glass which cracked and finally broke open, letting me send the last of the clip into the face of the driver.

The Bear slumped and swerved, jolting forward as it lost control, ramming sharply into the back of the car and sending us speeding forward. I barely heard Julius shout at me to hold on before the car rocked and jerked, tumbling down the stairs into the amphitheatre and coming to a stop halfway down.

I jumped quickly from the car, ducking around and taking cover behind it, aiming my rifle up to the top of the amphitheatre as the sirens got closer and closer. The Bear was still and silent and I could have laughed when I realised it was empty; we'd thinned the Ultor troops far more than I'd thought. Beside me, Julius limped out of the car with a low groan, taking his place next to me.

"Bad spot for it," I commented darkly, checking my ammo. I threw away the empty clip but all I had was a half one left to reload with. Maybe less than that in my pistol. The sirens were closer.

"We been in tighter spots," he replied. I snarled at the word 'we' and kept glaring up as the nose of the first cop car appeared over the lip of the ditch.

Then the sirens were shut off.

I frowned, shifting uncomfortably, and spared a questioning glance to Julius. _Five years and I was still looking to him_? Old habits do die hard. He kept his eyes trained on the car and I did the same then. After a moment, it started up again, pulling away and out of sight. I listened keenly, hearing the rumble as the other engines did the same.

My breathing began to slow, my heart's hard, slow beats softening as the quiet descended gently on the amphitheatre.

"The fuck…?" I murmured. They were retreating? The Saints might be causing too much havoc; Ultor had taken enough hits from us. I turned and slowly stepped away from the car, my head still in a whirl after the sudden explosion and disappearance of the action… Damn masako, always getting in my way. I could hear Julius' footsteps following me as I walked aimlessly down the steps and onto the stage. I scowled. I didn't want him following me.

"Just like old times playa," He said to the back of my head. I looked to the stone ground, feeling eerie as that cold shadow began creeping over my skin again.

"Yeah," I said softly, then whirled, my hand guiding my gun and firing when my sights landed on his chest. He stumbled back then collapsed to the ground against a pylon, staring down shocked at the hole in his chest, blood slowly seeping from it. I had aimed for his heart… and I didn't know if missing was an accident or not.

"Jesus..." he said quietly, looking up to me with tired eyes, "I thought we were past this shit."

"Not by a fucking long shot," I replied coldly. Just like old times huh? That whole life that had been a fucking _lie_.

"Don't you get it?" Julius voiced bitterly, "The Saints didn't solve a god damn thing. Drugs were still getting pushed; innocent people were still getting killed. All we did was turn into Vice kings that wore purple."

I felt my jaw drop a little; what, _that_ had been his intention?

"Jesus Christ, you sound like a pussy," I said incredulously.

"I sound like someone who isn't a sociopath!" he snapped back and I felt a thrill of fury race up my spine. He _sounded_ like a fucking _hypocrite_! He made the Saints, he gave the orders, and he reaped the fucking benefits.

"You wanna be the killer with a conscience, fine," I said darkly, not about to let him forget everything that _he'd_ done, "Drop your flags and write a book like King, but you never should've come after _me_," I spat, thumping my gun pointedly against my own chest. I felt his eyes searching me.

"You tellin' me," he said, his voice softer now, "if I would've asked you to walk away, you would've said yes?"

"Fuck no!" I said instantly. How could I after everything I'd fought for? "This is _my_ city."

Julius looked at me with sad disappointment, which only made me all the more angry. "Jesus..." he muttered, "you haven't learnt a goddamn thing."

"Wrong." Levelling the gun back at him, a new wave of strength rippled up through my body. "I learnt that being in charge is better than being a bitch who keeps her mouth shut and does what she's told."

He blinked at me when I said that. But it was the truth; he thought of me as his Galatea, his creation. His property to use then destroy, not a daughter, a fucking _doll_.

"…Your time's over old man," I growled back at him darkly. He was still searching me, frowning gently.

"What's happened to you?" he mused sadly, but I wasn't moved by it. If anything, I felt my mouth tug into a dry smile.

"…I woke up," I said, smiling at the double meaning.

"You owe me playa," he said, shifting himself up and fixing me with a stern and familiar gaze, "If it wasn't for me, you woulda' died on that street corner."

I blinked at that, my anger flashing back, "If it weren't for you I wouldn't have been in a god damn coma!" I shot back at him. There was a soft silence as he took me in – I couldn't read him this time. He seemed older, but in a strange way… an age that meant more than time.

He lifted his chin as he spoke, "I guess that makes us even."

BANG.

His head jolted back and a soft spray of crimson exploded across the Grecian column behind him. I was more aware of the soft wisp of smoke that curled from the muzzle of my gun and the sound that echoed around the cavernous amphitheatre, and slowly I lowered my aim.

"... not really," I replied, to him or myself, I didn't know. With that, I turned and walked away, the late golden sunlight stretching my shadow across the stage.

I ascended the stairs out of the amphitheatre slowly, the sudden vibrating of my cell causing me to jolt; I gingerly pulled it out of my pocket, softening when I checked the caller ID.

"Hey Johnny," I said quietly when I answered. The voice that responded to me was strained and coarse, he sounded like he was running, no gunfire though.

"_Hey. You alright out there?"_

I nodded, releasing a small sigh as I continued to talk, "… I'm fine. What's happening?"

"… _Nothing babe. I'll… I'll tell you when you get home."_

Upgraded from 'Boss' to 'Babe' huh? I was torn between a smile and worried frown. But if he said he was okay…

"Alright. I'll see you there."

I could have stopped at the downtown loft… but I wanted to go home. _Home_. The word seemed to carry more weight now. Even the thought left a longing inside of me, tugging me back to Purgatory, to the sanctuary. I wandered quietly westward, willing to take the long route home in case any more Masako were hunting around. As the long minutes passed, I was soon roaming along the board walk, almost able to smell the burning of the junk boats and the fireworks. It was a peaceful area now, though if you looked closely you could still see the scars of stray bullets in the wood work. My feet kept carrying me through my city.

I threaded down the road that divided the city from the suburbs, once Roller territory, then Saint, then Ronin, and now, again in our control. Most nights you could hear the screeching of tyres and roaring of engines thunder through the peaceful neighbourhood, new street racers forever drawn in. The front of the suburban homes always felt like masks to me, hiding the truth of their occupants. Home makers turned drug runners and chemists… Old friends becoming the victim of gang violence…

The shiver sped up my spine again. I began to run out of road – far in the distance to my right I could see where the new bridge had been built, and the remnants of the old freeway that had been destroyed by the earthquake that had rocked Stilwater a few short years ago.

And the graveyard. I had to stop when I looked to where it would have been, far off in the distance. That place carried so much more weight with me now, ever since Carlos… had come back. That one thing and everything I thought I knew about reality had come crashing down around me. At least now it was harder to be afraid of something I couldn't understand, and that consideration admittedly made me smile a little. I rubbed a palm over the scars on my neck and wondered if I should maybe visit him…

… No. I knew I'd probably ask him to wake up again and I wasn't about to do that to him. I turned away from it, left, back into old Stilwater to take the old bridge, one that used to be a draw bridge that Dex and I had nearly fallen off, trying to chase down Angelo, one of the Carnales leaders. It was sealed down now, and though I'd crossed it countless times this was the first time I'd walked over it. The cool evening wind swept by me, picking up into a violent gust when I was crossing the water. I don't know why, but I looked over my shoulder to the buildings behind me. It was Lavender Town in the dim twilight, a city of both life and ghosts. A little way east, the Ultor tower still stood, shaken, smoky and under repair after my violent assault on it. I'd hated what had happened to the Row, but in a way, I felt myself letting go. That was back then, it was a different life and I'd been a different person. Weaker, naive, a puppet. Seeing that history paved over, I couldn't feel too sorry.

The bridge started sloping downwards, and I slipped into my home land. It was a short walk down the Red Light district, the furthest memory slithering back into my mind and making my blood chill for a moment. Being alone, lost in the city, hungry, cold and broken, before Julius and Troy found me.

'_If it wasn't for me, you would've died on that street corner.'_

If it wasn't for him, a lot wouldn't have happened… I knew I owed him my life, and I willingly gave every piece of myself to repay that debt. Everything I had done, I'd done for him.

'_I woke up.'_

I'd repaid him tenfold, and still he'd betrayed me, in the cruellest way he could have. But it was _my _life now. My city, my decisions. Because Julius was dead. I stopped in my tracks at that thought, suddenly cold, and wrapped my arms around my elbows.

My legs were starting to burn from walking so far and for so long, and eventually the neon lights of Purgatory glowed through the increasing darkness, guiding me home. The elevator welcomed me and when I stepped into the hideout, the remote buzzing sound of Saints laughing and talking over whatever music was playing warmed me. In the distance of the noise I heard Shaundi joking loudly with Pierce, the two finally starting to get past their competitiveness and settling into a close friendship.

I didn't stop to see them; I didn't even check the foyer of the hideout to see if Gat was there. Instead, I slipped wordlessly into my room, closing the door behind me. Even then, I wound around the foot of my bed to the ensuite, slipping inside and softly closing the door, muting all sound till all I could hear was the soft hushing of my own breaths.

My legs were hot and weak from the walk, and I leant against the door, slowly slipping down onto the cold tiles. I thought my breaths were tense and shallow from the exercise, but my throat became tight. My mind wandered back again, back to the night Julius had picked me up off the pavement. I'd loved him so much, the father I'd never had but had always wanted… the pain in my chest began to compound when I realised again he was dead. He was dead, and I'd killed him… I looked down at my hands, which I realised were shaking. The peace I'd found wandering through the haunted city was beginning to fragment, and my tired body was slumping, pooling into a pile of ash on the bathroom floor.

"… Julius…" I whispered, my throat tight and constricted around a lump. Just like that, the weight of my life began pouring down over my shoulders, as if I was only now truly living the epic. My hand raced to my throat which was so tight I could barely breathe-

And the keen, a soft, strangled and broken wail sung from somewhere in the deepest part of me, so heavy it hurt… trembling I curled over, the old, familiar hole ripping open wide, tearing me in two till the low whimper became an agonised groan.

The sob exploded from me, beating its way out of my chest in a painful gust. My eyes scorched, and I raced the heel of my palm to them, feeling something strange and foreign… and almost laughed, when I felt the hot, salty tears soaking through my lashes, five years of tears running down my face and over my trembling hands and lips.

"_Christ…_ _you _Julius? Really?" I half muttered and laughed to myself, but the weak smile tore apart in seconds. I barely clamped a weak hand over my mouth as my sobs thumped out of my lungs, both heavy and whimpering and crying for… everything.

Julius' responsibility was vanishing. Revealing my whole existence, bare and naked before me. The thrill of it, the danger and all the living and loving and losing I'd managed to do… and all it took was that last imagining of Julius, remembering his proud looks, the hope and happiness he'd inspired in me…

I remember the night Lin had died… after killing Sharp I'd nearly followed her into the grave, I was so wounded and sick from what had happened. But I also remember being carried into Dex's house… barely opening my eyes, seeing Julius above me, holding me close as he carried me to safety.

And that single last sight of him before I took his life without so much as a blink… the cold, horrible sensation, so strange and foreign that it bound nearly every muscle in my body… Because in that moment, for the first time, _I wished I hadn't done it_. And for the rest of my life I'd never know why. Why I regretted killing the one man who'd betrayed me worse than anyone ever had or ever would.

I was lost in it, the agony and the ecstasy, the beautiful, horrible release and the physical pain that was tearing at my insides as I tried to muffle my howls and the lament began consuming other memories.

I mourned it all… I felt it all again, each one of them getting ripped out of my soul. Not just Lin and Aisha and Carlos… I mourned Troy. Dex. Julius. Even… even Seth. I cried for everything I thought they _had_ been… for all those happy memories I couldn't deny were nothing but lies. I cried for myself, for the girl I'd been before I'd ever taken a life... I curled on the floor of that bathroom like a child, five years of pain and bloodshed and betrayal flooding out of me, now that I realised my father was dead.

I cried for what could have been seconds or days…

Of course, it couldn't last. Slowly the pain ebbed, replaced with something else… the unending gratitude. Like all the lies, all the bullshit was finally done with, and _me_, my _real_ life, was… actually beginning.

For nearly an hour I laid there, exhausting myself, trying to smother the staggering, bastardised noises that were half misery and half laughter till I'd nearly lost my voice. Eventually the sounds subsided, the tears continuing to run silently down my face as I stared silently at the tiles, my breathing sore and shallow and shaking.

My heart lurched, hot, a coal or ember in my ashen chest and I closed my tired eyes, mind still swimming in the memories.

How many times had I died, only to come back as something new?

My whole body felt dry, as if every drop of life in me had been cried away. It felt soft and frail like a newborn baby's, and weakly, I began to push myself up from the tiles, a damp puddle of tears still smeared across them. My nose was blocked, eyes raw and throat dry and searing.

The last hold Julius had over me slipped loose and vanished, the last threads of who I was died. And on those damp bathroom tiles, just like that alleyway five years ago, I was reborn.

I drew one last, shuddering breath, and from where I sat, reached up for the handle of the bathroom door, twisting it gently and pushing it open. It was impossible to be surprised at what my eyes met.

Johnny sat there against the wall next to the door, looking over to me silently, his own cheeks stained with the now-dry trails of more tears than I'd ever seen on him. He'd suffered the same betrayals I had. His glasses were gone, and his sleek eyes watched me knowingly, telling me he'd been there, waiting. Simultaneously, we shared the same weak smile and shifted together, wrapping tired arms around each other and… just held on.

I can remember once telling someone that happiness was infirm and fleeting, brief moments that punctuated reality. Now, resting there, in the arms of my truest friend, my _family_, my _home_… I think I could convince myself otherwise.

* * *

><p><strong>The End.<strong>

**But, who knows...? You might see me soon in a little fic taking place after SRtT? ;)**


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